A New Breed of Darkness
by KMSaum
Summary: A land ravaged by evil has no heroes of its own to turn to, and as such relies on borrowing some heroes from Balamb, Midgar, Middle Earth, Serdio and others. The problem? Should one of the borrowed heroes die, they are dead in their own worlds as well..
1. Chap 1: It all Begins

Hello and welcome to Chaos Dragon's enormous fanfic, "A New Breed of Darkness." Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story that belong in a game, movie, TV show or book. All other original characters are mine, so no stealing please! Please send feedback--reviews help the story grow :-)-- and suffer through the very beginning--I know it's a little wordy. As a last note:

"_What do you do when you cannot build a machine to combat the ultimate evil?_

_You build a machine to bring you someone who can."_

-The Industries

_Genre is no longer a barrier._

**1. New World, New Darkness: the Heroes Converge**

He was well built and strong, possessing sharp, electric blue eyes. He was dressed in dark blue pants and top with an armored left shoulder. A dark red cape billowed out behind him and settled over his shoulders; the neck of it draped over his chest and covered half of his face. The spiky-haired blonde climbed shakily to his feet and found his sword within easy reach. That was a condolence- even if waking up in an enormous steel room wasn't. He reached down and lifted the enormous blade, testing its weight and feel; satisfied he swung it up and let it rest on his right shoulder. Glancing around he noticed bodies strewn on the floor...and another man standing amid them all.

He was younger than the blonde and a hair taller- same build, similar piercing blue-gray eyes. An old scar ran down over the bridge of his nose. His hair was dark brown and-- (because he had recently let it grow)--brushed his shoulders in the back. He was dressed in a short-cut black jacket and white shirt with dark jeans that flared out at the bottom. A lion head pendant hung on heavy silver chain around his throat. Like the blonde he rested his sword on his shoulder, though his had a pommel that looked the butt end of a pistol. The blonde didn't really care what the brunette looked like--he just wanted answers.

Their eyes locked at the same time.

"You--why did you do this?" The blonde questioned. His voice was quiet and commanding. The brunette readied his sword, just as coolly confident.

"I was about to ask you the same." Their blades rang against one another in the next second as both of them lunged forward.

In an office that overlooked the steel room, a young woman swore vividly and roared "I told you to separate those two!" as she raced out the door.

Sounds of steel grating steel echoed heavily off of the walls in the large chamber as the blonde and brunette struck and dodged. The blonde twirled his enormous blade in a silver arc, pulling it out and down in crescent too quick to be seen. He was fast- but the brunette was faster. The larger blade should have sliced him on the shoulder as he dodged a previous hit; instead both blades met, edge to edge, as the brunette protected himself.

"You're too slow," he told his opponent simply, holding his sword stationary in their stalemate. The blonde scowled and applied himself. The brunette began to strain under his power.

The blonde continued to force the brunette down, eventually making him sink to one knee, knowing he'd eventually break through the other man's defense. The brunette's left leg was in front of him, his right knee holding all of his weight as he was pressed down. He acted in a split second, lashing out with his free leg. His boot met the blonde's knee and it buckled. Panting, he went down, losing his advantage. The brunette rose and pivoted, whipping his sword around as he spun. The blonde barely managed to block, turning his sword so that it's width saved him. Sparks flew as the gun-handled sword slid across the blonde's much larger blade. The brunette swore quietly and leapt away as the blonde swung to retaliate.

"Cloud!" A female voice called, drawing the blonde's attention to his left. The moment could have cost him his arm, and as it was the brunette scored a shallow cut across his bicep. Cloud countered quickly, slicing the back of his opponent's thigh. "Cloud, stop!" The female voice cried again. The speaker was a slim girl that stood about four inches shorter than the blonde she'd called Cloud. Her long brown hair was pulled into a ponytail that spiraled down her back, and her spiked brown bangs framed a pretty face and emerald eyes. Her brown boots clashed with her long, buttoned pink dress, though she didn't seem to care--she was more worried about the blonde, for she rushed to him and latched onto his shoulder. "You're bleeding," she commented as he readied himself again. The brunette was ready to charge again-- the cut down his leg didn't seem to have bothered him much. Ignoring the girl, Cloud lunged forward at the same time the brunette did, sword poised and ready...

...and landed flat on his back with a crash, his sword sliding away across the smooth metal floor. Slightly dazed, Cloud looked up at his newest adversary: a man quite a bit older than him glared down at him over a pair of small, dark sunglasses. A red scar stretched from the man's hairline down over his right eye, rendering it useless. Streaks of gray flecked his black hair at the temples; a long, thin ponytail was visible past the high collar of his blood red overcoat. The man's long, thin-bladed sword was held point-blank in front of Cloud's face.

The brunette had similar problems. He too had been struck down from a blind spot as he'd rushed his foe, and was now sprawled on the floor. He, however, still had his sword. Lurching to his feet and pulling his gunblade with him as he did, he readied an attack. Striking at the person that'd knocked him down, he found himself locked body-to-body and hilt-to-hilt with a man that looked like he was from another century. He was dressed in a black tunic with a chain mail shirt underneath and black breeches to match. His abused cloak was gray-green and seemed to change color as the light played off of it. His sword was of normal human length and well crafted. He regarded the brunette evenly with deep, regal blue eyes. His black-brown, shoulder length hair matched his closely cropped mustache and beard.

"A nice recovery, but you stare too much," The man told the brunette and swept his foot in an arc at the same time that he grabbed the gunblade's pommel. "Do not leave yourself open," He instructed the younger man, who now lay scowling and disarmed on the floor.

"I see I had no reason to worry," A new voice- another female voice- chimed in. She spoke loud enough for everyone to hear her. "Thankfully the rational people were here to step in before Cloud and Leon killed each other. Auron, Aragorn, I thank you. You have no idea of the tragedies you may have just averted." The speaker was the same girl from the room upstairs, the one that had cursed when she'd seen two of her guests fighting. She was about twenty-two and possessed intelligent hazel eyes with a touch of green in them. Her chin was stubbornly set in a nicely shaped face; her brown hair fell about two inches past her shoulders. Dressed in a pale blue tunic over cream colored shirt and breeches, she too looked like she was from someplace long past. A thin scimitar hung at her belt, along with some nasty looking shuriken: four-bladed throwing stars that took a lot of practice to master. She looked around her, nodding approval that all eight of them were on their feet, however unsteadily. "Well, I'm pleased to see no one got too abused on the trip here. If you'll follow me, we'll find someplace a little less--daunting." Realizing a few of them didn't mean to follow her, she added, "You won't find out where you are or what you're doing here if you stay in this chamber. I hate it in here, and do not intend to linger. This way." She started to walk away and was followed somewhat hesitantly by eight very mismatched people. Up a flight of steel stairs and down a long metal hallway they walked, finally ending up at a room with a wooden door.

"These are my quarters," The brown-haired woman explained, "Though thankfully I'm almost never here." She opened the door and led them inside. It was a large room with several chairs arranged in a semicircle, and unlike the rest of the building they had seen, everything was wood and cloth. There was no metal to be seen, outside of a large double-bladed broadsword that laid on a shelf on the wall. Their guide motioned for the eight to sit down and headed for a large trunk that sat at the foot of a small couch. From it she drew two small rolls of cloth and a small packet of something. "Since you two decided to spill blood first and ask questions later, you get to patch yourselves up." She tossed them the bandages. "We don't have healers- at least not yet- so you're on your own. The packet of wound cleaner you'll have to share." She tossed it to the brunette at Cloud's side. "I figure you'll end up patching him anyway, Aerith. As for the rest of you, I apologize right now for all of the trouble this is going to cost you."

"Trouble?" One of them asked. The speaker was a tall man with a modest build, light brown eyes and hair of the same color that fell in a ponytail halfway down his back. His breeches, shirt, tunic and cloak were all made in shades of green from olive to hunter to emerald. His voice was light and melodic for a man's, his speech careful and well bred. More than one of the others noticed by his soft features that he was not a veteran warrior. Nevertheless, he carried a long, smooth shafted javelin with a beautifully crafted silver tip.

"Trouble, Albert. If none of us die I will thank every god in turn for a month."

"What do you mean, 'If none of us die?'" The young man she'd called Leon asked. "What is so dangerous about this place? In honesty, I see no reason to worry myself-- I actually know how to fight." That jarred some angry murmurs from some of the other people in the room. Their guide scoffed.

"Your arrogance will get you killed quickly here, Leon, so stop playing at it. We don't need you putting on a show just to keep up your image. Regardless of how good you _think _you are, in Technica you are not quite what you used to be." She paused, giving the statement time to sink in, then went on. "That goes for all of you. This world poses certain limitations on visitors. As you may have expected, this is not your time, your era or your world. It is _none_ of your worlds; nor is it mine. This place is in danger of destruction and has no one to turn to. No natives, anyway--that's why we're here. Do you see? They used machines and brought us here, from our worlds to Technica. I don't understand how--they don't have this kind of devilry where I come from." She sighed. "The men that brought us...they told me when I came that my world froze in my absence, that it would wait for me as long as I remain alive. Should I--or any of you--perish, we will no longer exist anywhere. Our worlds will go on without us, and considering most of us are instrumental in protecting our homes, I doubt the results would be much to anyone's liking." That got a few more murmurs from her audience. "Now, as for the limitations..." She reached behind her, into the trunk, and produced a map that she spread out on the table in the middle of the group. "You all probably felt an odd sensation in your bodies when you first woke up. A kind of tingling. That's the limitation I was talking about. For a while-weeks, actually- you won't be up to par. Your judgment, technique, strength, fighting style...everything will be sluggish for awhile. It comes from being drug across dimensions, I suppose."

"What is a 'dimension?'" One of the group asked. This time the speaker was female; she happened to be the only other girl besides Aerith and their guide. She was young and petit, around eighteen, and much like Albert she didn't look like she had the build of a fighter. She was dressed in a white top and a long blue skirt- very unconventional clothes for fighting. The colorful staff she carried looked to be more for show than substance. Her light, airy brown hair was trimmed a bit above her shoulders; one of her eyes was blue, the other green. She was fair-skinned, and her voice was quiet and hesitant. The guide smiled at her question.

"Honestly Lady Yuna, I don't know. They just said it's hard to recover from. They're right...I think it took Trace and I around two months to get even remotely back to normal." Before anyone bothered to ask who Trace was, she pressed on. "Now, you all can see the three small black dots on the map, and the larger one farther north, here." She pointed. "Now, the three smaller dots represent the three smaller power sources, the larger the major one. Simple enough, correct?" Mutters of agreement came as a reply. "Good. Now, the four dots--called Spheres-- are the outlets of the evil that is so threatening this world. The Spheres are the centers of the negative energy; the people here call the energy the Dark."

"How creative," Cloud said dryly. Their guide nodded, then continued.

"The Dark, namely the Spheres, creates minions to do its biding. It does this by emitting a black, gooey substance that at first has no shape. When the Dark is in this form it can perceive possible forms in the thoughts of people."

"It can read minds?" Albert questioned, aghast.

"Unfortunately, yes. That's just the beginning, though. The Dark seems to acquire new tricks all of the time. It's been trying to trip me up for two years now."

"Two years and you still haven't gotten rid of it?" Leon asked nastily. The young woman scowled at him and said.

"Jeer all you like. It is impossible to attack the three lesser Spheres simultaneously, and that is what must be done. I am one and only one, mage or not."

"What happened to that Trace person you mentioned?" Aerith asked. Their guide sighed louder; a look of regret entered her eyes.

"I wish I knew. We gave the Dark everything we had in a battle about four months after they drug us here. He was a friend from my world, so we knew each other and were able to work as a team. We nearly destroyed the Dark--the larger Sphere--in its entirety then. Needless to say, though, I gave out before we got the job done. I didn't have all of the...resources that I needed."

"You mean you're weak as hell and got your friend killed." Leon offered.

"Your manners are impeccable," Albert told him sarcastically. A tall, lean blonde man on Aragorn's left nodded agreement. He was the only one of the group that had yet to speak. He was dressed much like his shorter comrade, though his clothing was grayish-brown. His hair was thin and fair, long enough to reach just past his collarbone. His blue eyes were bright and keen and his ears, oddly enough, came to a point at the top. A beautifully carved longbow and quiver, along with two ivory handled knives, rested on his back.

"Thank you Albert, Legolas, but I'm afraid he's partially right. You all wouldn't be here risking your lives if I'd just been able to..." She cut off and cleared her throat. "I do not think Trace is dead, however. For all that I can't sense him, I don't think he perished."

"Where is he, then?" Yuna wanted to know.

"I imagine the Dark has him. An unpleasant thought at the very least. Anyway," she seemed uncomfortable and anxious to change the subject, "-as I was saying, the Dark takes its shape from a human's memories and thoughts. Should it take the form of one of _your_ personal enemies, do not fight it. It will automatically know what to do against you. Handle anyone else's foes, just not your own; you will be at a huge disadvantage with the limitations against an enemy that knows your weakness. Just avoid a fight like that at all costs. It also helps if you don't brood on your foes. For example, if you have, say, powerful enemies to worry about when you return home, try not to think about it. All you'll do is give one of your teammates a nasty creature to deal with, and we don't need that. It's going to happen anyway--don't help it along." She rolled up the map and stowed it away. "That's enough for now, I think. One last thing, though-- men cannot use magic here."

"What!" Leon demanded.

"May I inquire why?" asked Yuna. Their guide shrugged.

"I don't know. That's just how it is here, I suppose. Men just can't do spells, and I'd advise you males not to try. I hear doing so causes fitful headaches."

"Well then, what disadvantage do we have to deal with?" Aerith wanted to know.

"We're very outnumbered here. I believe that the last census taken revealed numbers of something like eight to one," She grinned wickedly, "I imagine it causes problems. At least the ladies here get to pick and choose a little more extensively than we do." She glanced at her audience and changed the subject again. "Well, I suppose you'll be wanting fed. After that, I'm afraid we have to move out. Time is of the essence, after all." Scowling at her own cliche, she led them out.

_To be continued...and it DOES get exciting..._

_Please Review!_


	2. Chap 2: The Dark Begins to Rise

**Hello. I don't believe anyone's read this story yet…so I'll give my little disclaimer: anything copyrighted I don't own,. Everything else I do. Can I offer a tidbit? Legolas will be the first of this unstable fellowship to falter….it gets exciting with that event, I just had to set the scene, sorry for the bore…**

**Please R&R!**

** Chap. 2 **

A meal- and for Yuna and Aerith, a clothes change- later, the eight were following their guide through the metal building, apparently heading for the door.

"This place is like a labyrinth," Legolas commented quietly; Aragorn, at his side and apparently a companion of his, nodded. They trudged on, finally reaching a large door. The guide pushed it open and everyone squinted in the brightness of the sunlight and of the reflective glare of metal. Their eyes adjusted and several of them gasped in awe.

"What is this place?" Albert questioned in a whisper. They stood in the middle of several steel buildings-skyscrapers- that stretched up inexplicably high above them. Kieci, the guide, smiled at the reactions that were so much like her own had been.

It was easy to tell who was used to the city and who wasn't. Cloud, Aerith, Auron and Leon didn't see what the big deal was.

"What a bunch of backwoods farmers," Leon mumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

"Is this what Zanarkand looked like?" Yuna asked her guardian; Auron nodded. Kieci let them stand in their stupor for a moment longer before she said,

"All right everyone, stare as you walk- we need to get going. We have to be mounted and out of the gates before noon." She started off at a brisk walk, her group following in a straggling line.

"The ground is solid, as if the earth placed rock there for human convenience. This isn't like our cobble streets at all." Albert whispered, examining the road as they trudged on. "Extraordinary."

"It's concrete," Aerith, who was walking nearby, told him. "It's man-made. They mix pebbles and sand and water, and this is the result. It helps make the road even so cars can travel along easier." The man looked at her, his lightly colored eyes confused.

"Cars?" Aerith giggled and launched into an explanation. The nine weaved their way down three different, modern streets, finally coming within sight of the thirty-foot-high city wall. A large sliding gate lay before them; a long wooden building rested on the side of the road. A strange smell drifted from the place, making some of the group wrinkle their noses in disgust.

"Horses," Aragorn announced-- they were nothing new to him.

"What's a horse?" Yuna asked.

"Whatever they are, they smell," Leon added. Kieci shook her head and headed for the building, unbolting and opening a wide set of doors. A high pitched animal call rang in the air as she entered, her charges in tow.

"Horses," she told them, opening her arms to indicate the creatures in stalls on either side of the center isle. The beasts were long- headed, with arched necks and large, intelligent eyes. They peered at the humans over their stall doors. "This is how we'll get around. We can't use cars," she added, "-because cities like this one are very few and far between, and the stuff we'd need to make them move is impossible to find. Horses are what we're using, and that's that." She walked over to a black and white paint and patted its nose as it lipped her hand. "For those of you that've never seen one, horses are beasts of burden. They work like chocobos do for those of you that have them-- they just look less silly."

"What do you mean, silly? Chocobos work just fine," Leon informed her.

"Sure, if you like riding giant chickens," Kieci retorted, opening the stall door of the paint and leading it out. It was a medium sized animal, about twelve hands high at the shoulder. The girl then launched into a short lecture on how to saddle a horse, for those of them that had no idea what to do. For all that a few of them didn't care, those that needed to paid attention.

"Now, you all have to choose a mount," she instructed, indicating the remaining horses. "There are more than enough, so take your time. They are temperamental, so find one you can get along with." With that she moved out of their way, leading the mare--one she'd named Darkmyth--out the front doors to wait. The remaining eight looked around them: there were two rows with ten stalls in each, most of which were filled. There were horses of every color and size, all of them looking intently at the group of potential riders.

Yuna wandered over towards a small mare with a speckled face, not noticing the enormous dun on her right side.

"Oh," Kieci called in from outside, "--watch out for Storm, the big yellowish stallion: he's mean." Yuna glanced just in time, puling her arm out of the beast's biting range. She gave him a sharp rap on the nose with her staff, scolding, "That was not very nice." Still being careful to avoid him, she went to his neighbor.

Aragorn, checking each animal he passed with a scrutinizing eye, finally settled on a small, light gelding. The horse was black with gray socks and a dark gray mane and tail. The animal didn't fidget as the Ranger proceeded to saddle him. Legolas chose the long legged cream mare in the stall on Aragorn's right. Auron found a large, blood red gelding to his liking. The beast's black mane and tail gave it a dark look.

Aerith was fascinated by the animals around her, and eventually found a timid, chestnut brown mare. Yuna stuck with her initial choice, the white horse covered in small brown spots. A blue roan whickered at Albert as he passed; the man decided to take the hint and stayed with him.

Leon and Cloud were the only two that had not chosen their mounts. Leon walked down the isle, looking around, when a set of flat teeth fastened onto his sleeve, jerking him to a halt. A stallion the color of steel stared at him, a white blaze running directly between his eyes.

"Let go." The beast snorted; in spite of himself, Leon half smiled. "What, are you bored?" The stallion whickered and released his jacket. Cloud had decided as well, though as he entered the horse's stall he heard a groan.

"I was hoping that two of you wouldn't pick stallions," Kieci muttered, entering. "Oh well. We won't be in this large a group for that long anyway."

"Why, what's the matter?" Aerith questioned, struggling with the girth on her mare's saddle.

"The two gray ones-- the two that Leon and Cloud picked-- they're brothers. Twins, and they dislike each other. How ironic that they have masters that so readily behaved the same way." She clapped her hands together, changing the subject again. "Saddle up, if you aren't already. Those of you that know what you're doing, help the others that don't." They proceeded to do as she said as she approached the dun she'd warned Yuna about. "Miss the action, Storm?" The animal bobbed its head as if it understood. She sighed and went to help Yuna.

"This is the most uncomfortable thing I have ever done," Aerith called up the column to Kieci. The woman grinned as she looked back.

"This is only a light trot," she told her. "Just wait until we're off the cement." They rode out the gate at the same easy pace; once they hit the dirt trail outside the city, though, the nine horses surged forward and broke into a fast gallop. The experienced riders had no trouble, save trying not to laugh at the others holding on for dear life. "Guess we should have warned them," Kieci said as an afterthought. She glanced over her shoulder; satisfied that everyone was still mounted she let Darkmyth run on, the other horses following her at the same breakneck pace.

Several hours later the nine had slowed to an easy trot again, to conserve their mounts. There had been quite a lot of grumbling until they slowed down; the inexperienced riders were sore and complaining about the jarring motion galloping created. Kieci told them to get used to it and had rode on, though she honored their request and had allowed them a short break. Now, however, they were back on the thin dirt trail. The silver city had faded from view and the countryside around them looked as untamed as it had in the Middle Ages. This confused Albert, and he was quick to tell Kieci so.

"Curious, aren't you?" she asked. "Yes, the rest of the country is very poor and underdeveloped, just like your world. There are three big cities, one of which we just left. I do not like their steel buildings. Anyway, most people in Technica live simple peasant lives. Most of you," she spoke to the group, "-are used to that. A few of you--Leon, Cloud, Aerith-- are here in case we have to handle something in a city, or with a machine. I don't understand those things, so if we come across one someday it's up to one of you three."

"Do the small towns have electric?" Aerith wanted to know. Judging by the look that Kieci gave her, she didn't understand. "Never mind." _Take that as a 'no.'_ Aerith decided thoughtfully. The group fell quiet again, though only for a moment. Aragorn nudged his horse forward, heading towards the front of the column. He slowed again when he was beside Kieci.

"How soon can we expect to see battle?" The Ranger asked; the young woman shrugged.

"It is hard to tell," she replied, turning in her saddle to speak to him. "I did hear a rumor that there's been some Dark activity around here, but I've seen nothing. Not that that means much." The sun was sinking; they'd reached the woods an hour before and were now surrounded by dense foliage. "There's a clearing up ahead. We can stop there for the night."

The clearing was large enough to accommodate them all, though barely. It was merely a brief widening of the trail where the trees had been cleared to provide a bare circle.

"Won't we be blocking traffic?" Aerith asked.

"No one travels after dusk; nor do they stay the night anywhere but in a town, if they can manage it. People know it's not safe."

"Great. So we're pretty much sitting ducks?" Cloud questioned.

Kieci nodded her head and helped Yuna unload the packs from her mare's back. Aragorn, having long since finished the same task, came over to ask:

"Will we be setting sentries?" The brunette shook her head.

"I'm a mage, and will ward this place. As big a circle as I will need, it won't be impenetrable, but we'll know if a Dark creature--or any creature, for that matter-- crosses my line." That seemed to satisfy him, and he returned to speak with Legolas.

Auron had set to building a fire, gathering tinder into a large pile in the center of the clearing. As he searched for flint Kieci approached and opened her hand; navy blue fire spilled from her palm onto the wood, setting it ablaze. She motioned to Aerith and Yuna, retrieving two large and battered books from her saddlebags.

"Spell books. I figured you'd be wanting them." The two younger girls nodded, sitting down beside her as she leafed through one of the volumes. "You two are natural healers, but you'll find all of the offensive spells you'll need in here as well. Learn the healing spells first: we need them more readily, for two reasons. One, we're in danger in such a large group. Two, I cannot heal very well. I am a war mage, and can use my offensives if need be, until you learn. I am warning you now, though: spells here are more complex. You do not simply say 'cure' and expect a wound to heal. It takes time, depending on how good you are, how grave the wound is, and how much the limitations of this world are still affecting you."

"How inconvenient," Yuna sighed.

"Yes. Also, do not--_do not_-- try to use Ultima. It is the very last spell, the one on the last four pages of the book. Ultima does nasty things in this world, and cannot be fully controlled by anyone. Depending on the type of power you possess and the way you use it, this particular spell has serious destructive potential. I almost killed myself with it, and that was _after_ I had returned to full strength and judgment. Just don't do it. I can only warn you-- I really don't want casualties, and using it would be almost a guarantee of it." Both of them shuddered at the thought and Kieci, having made her point, left them to their reading.

Daylight was dying quickly. After scavenging something to eat from their packs, several of the nine headed for their bedrolls. The horses were picketed for grazing, and Kieci left to draw her protective circle around the camp. When she returned Albert, Aragorn and Legolas were the only ones still up, regardless that the sky was still pink.

"An uneventful day," the elf, leaning against a tree, commented. His light blonde hair glowed crimson in the firelight.

"Very boring," Albert agreed, seated beside the flames. "-though I've a feeling we're better off bored." Kieci nodded, easing herself onto the ground.

"Yes, no events are good events. The silence makes me uncomfortable, though. If the Dark is active here it should have been upon us by now, as conspicuous as our group is." She smiled. "The others are out. Are you three not tired?"

"I am. Very," Albert said, careful of his wording, "but I feel a presence at the back of my mind, like a dot of wrongness. It is almost as if there's a little feeling trying to get my attention. Almost like a warning..." He cut off and bowed his head, embarrassed. "I apologize. I did not mean to babble." Kieci, however, was not laughing. She looked to the Ranger and elf.

"I feel the same." Aragorn said finally. Legolas nodded.

"I was hoping you'd notice," the woman admitted. "I grow weary of explaining everything- I didn't want to try to explain what to feel for as well."

"What _are_ we feeling?" Albert prodded.

"First of all, do you three realize what we four have in common?" she nodded to Albert and Aragorn. "You two are kings, and Legolas is a prince. I am a baron's daughter. Anyone notice a connection?"

"Noble blood," Albert supplied.

"Very good. For some reason-- yet again I have no idea why-- people of noble blood have a kind of sixth sense about the Dark. When it's near, when it's ready to attack...you'll feel that note of wrongness gather into a roar. It gets rather annoying, especially when you are being tracked. That nasty little note will chime in your subconscious while you ride, eat, sleep...it will bother you constantly." She smiled ruefully. "An alarm bell that's a blessing and a curse. It's nice to know when the Dark's about to pounce, but far too often it just lingers on the outskirts of camp and then recedes again into the night. I'm sorry to add another burden to your loads. Hopefully this bag of surprises has nearly emptied itself out."

"I hope so," Albert admitted, fighting a yawn.

"We should try at rest anyway, I suppose," Aragorn said, to no one in particular. He, Albert and Kieci all headed for their bedrolls. Legolas, however, remained against his tree. The Ranger questioned his inaction with a look; the elf shook his head, watching the forest beyond the dying firelight. Aragorn shrugged and crawled under his blankets, suddenly weary. He tried his best to ignore the sense of foreboding he felt from the shadows.

Legolas leaned against the tall elm, listening to the sounds of the night. There was the deep, even breathing of the sleeping people around him; the easy swish of a light breeze through the branches above him; the shuffle of hooves in grass as the horses shifted their weight. Outside of those things there was complete silence: no birds, no animal calls, no sound at all. The elf began to wonder if perhaps Kieci's protective circle was obstructing his hearing. The spell kept invaders out; he thought maybe it had the same effect on unwanted noise. Stringing his longbow just in case, he found the glittering red ring on the ground-- Kieci's barrier-- and crossed it.

One step out, and the elf felt a force of dissonance so powerful that it made him stagger. A blink to clear his head and Legolas set an arrow, keen blue eyes darting around in every direction, looking for the energy's source. Despite his eyesight he saw nothing, save darkness.

A growl rose on his right and he fired. The gravelly sound--it was a laugh, not a growl-- rose in pitch, turning into high whine. Setting another arrow, Legolas watched and, despite his eyesight, found no target. Pressing on away from the circle the elf waited, listening as the whining cry dropped back into a low, mirthless laugh. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at all. It issued from the shadows, though there was nothing there except the shadows themselves. A side thought occurred to him, and Legolas took another step forward, tucking his bow and drawn arrow into his left hand. With his right he reached for the open space between two trees. To his shock, his long fingers settled against resistance. A solid wall of nothing but writhing blackness shifted under his touch. A long tentacle of shadowy gel twined about his wrist. Ripping it free, he stepped away from the shadow wall.

The laughing ceased. Something heavy-- and very hard-- met the back of Legolas's head with tremendous force, dropping him silently to the ground.

_See, It's getting there. It just took 15 pgs or so to ease into the action. It's here now, though, so please stay tuned…_


	3. Chap 3: Losing Battle

**Finally, the exciting stuff is here! I'm going to post in smaller doses so it's easier to read…not that anyone's reading it. J Oh well, you know the spiel…I own what's mine and not what's not. Please R&R!**

** Chap. 3**

"_Foolish to come alone,_" the shadowy form hissed, dropping the stone. Gliding past him, is fellows in tow, it changed direction. Having dispatched the sentry, the masses headed towards the illuminated circle in the middle of their woods. Still hissing eagerly, the first of the creatures slid across a glittering red line.

Kieci sat bolt upright as evil passed into her circle.

"Everyone, weapons-- now!" Wide-awake she leapt to her feet, followed closely by Aragorn and Cloud. The three of them were the first to lunge. A man sized, shapeless black blob wriggled into the firelight, making itself a target. Three blades sunk into the thing's flesh-- its inhuman shriek vibrated off the surrounding trees. The creature created an arm-like tentacle on its side, using it like a club to beat off its assailants. Under the thing's strike, only Cloud managed to hold on, his enormous blade wedged into the thing. Kieci and Aragorn were sent flying across the clearing, landing in a puff of dust as more shadowy blobs slid into view.

The rest of the nine were up now, weapons drawn and ready. Even as Leon and the others rushed the things, though, they receded back out of the light. The one Cloud had impaled shrieked louder, slamming the warrior four more times to dislodge him. The ex-Soldier was finally knocked aside. The blob spread thin, letting the blades stuck in its body fall to the ground, reforming itself afterward and slithering quickly away. Kieci and Aragorn retrieved their blades along with Cloud, readying for another assault.

"Dark creations," Kieci explained as she scanned the area. "That is the form they take before they have perceived a shape from a human's memory. They cannot be destroyed unless the Sphere that spawned them is shattered," she paused. "Aragorn, Albert-- give me a clue about how many we've got to deal with. I need some idea, but my protective spell corrupts my ability to sense them." The Ranger started to say something but Kieci cut him off. "I am aware that Legolas is missing. Worry about the Dark now and the elf later." The man scowled, but did as she said.

"We are surrounded," he told her quietly. "There is foulness on our every side." The woman glanced at Albert, who nodded.

"They've got the clearing encircled. There's no opening for us to get out through." There came a scared cry from slightly down the path. "We've still got the horses, but they're outside the loop of monsters." Their guide scowled, trying to formulate a plan. Instead of offering one, she asked:

"Who's the best at large group fighting? I'm not used to more than two allies at any one time." At first no one spoke up, and nothing moved; the eight were as motionless as their enemies, who seemed content to stay in their ring. "They're weaving themselves together," the mage snapped, "The more in sync they get the harder time we're going to have getting out."

"A circle," Yuna said suddenly. "We could make a circle, and keep our backs to each other for protection."

"You'll need a way to draw them forward," Auron continued for her. "Were we to instigate a frontal attack, we'd stand no chance."

"Oh, instigating I can do," Kieci promised, "It'll make them attack." Aragorn, who was on her left, snarled.

"We are wasting time. Some ill has befallen my comrade and I--"

"Will you stop?" she questioned calmly. "We haven't the time for more talk." The Ranger turned to face her. Pure fury glinted in the regal eyes and in the lines of his face. When he spoke his anger was hardly contained.

"Do you expect me to stand idle?" Kieci met his glare ounce for ounce, remaining silent as she pondered his question-- the rest of the group stood quiet as well. After a long moment, she sighed.

"I would hate to bring the wrath of the Numenoreans upon myself for something so fickle as my pride. Fine. Give me a moment to clear you a path, and you may go after Legolas. I cannot stop you." She put out her right hand-- a ball of what looked like dark blue lightning formed there. It continued to grow, and she drew some of it into her left as well, creating two orbs. The original in her right glowed sky blue, the other a steely gray. "Step away from me. This will bring our enemies forth with a vengeance: we'll have all those around us, and any of their fellows they've summoned." The mage leveled her hands at chest height, aiming herself in two directions. As the glistening balls reached the size of a cannonball, she smiled slightly at Aragorn and said, "This is all the cover I can provide you. Best of luck."

She fired.

In a burst of light and raw power, two columns of energy-- one blue, one gray-- shot into the shadows surrounding the clearing. The Dark creatures stood fast in their circle, and met her spells in full. The resulting explosions sent tiny particles of Dark gel splattering all over the trees, ground and people nearby; Kieci herself was thrown to the ground with the recoil. Amid the high-pitched shrieking of the wounded Dark, Aragorn shouldered his sword and slipped into the trees through one of the holes in the shadowy wall.

"Impressive," Auron commented to Kieci as he pulled her up. The man did it easily, not having to use more than his left arm. "What do you call that?"

"My turn-my-energy-into-a-column-and-shoot-it-at-the-enemy spell," she replied grimly, picking up her sword as she was drug back to her feet. "We'd best ready ourselves." The eight--now seven-- backed into each other, facing outward as the shadow ring, screeching in rage and pain, began to constrict itself. The holes Kieci had made were quickly filled in. The outer circle tightened still further.

"Like a noose," Cloud commented, waiting to strike. The ring halted its advance just out of range of their longest blades, the shifting masses of black remaining side by side. None of the seven could tell where one blob ended and another began. For another long moment their stalemate held, until:

"Why don't they move?" Aerith whispered. There was a ringing cry that echoed off the still night air. From somewhere beyond the circle, more of the Dark things came vaulting over their fellows. Spread into thin sheets the things glided down on the circle beneath them. Kieci and the others had enough to mutter a short curse before thick, opaque nets of black surrounded them.

Cloud rolled out of the way, followed closely by Leon. They both evaded the nets, but were left to deal with the noose.

"Damn," Cloud growled, looking at the scene before him. The others were completely swamped, many of them nothing more than lumps covered by the Dark creatures. Leon stood beside him, his sword as poised and ready as Cloud's. The younger man glanced at the elder and asked:

"Together?" without hesitation Cloud nodded, and the two of them leapt at the advancing ring, hacking at as mercilessly as the space they had allowed. They had a task in doing this, for the noose of Dark was drawing in closer as tentacles sprouted from it in random areas, all of them groping blindly for prey.

Aerith had crumbled to the ground when the creature had landed on and enveloped her. Now she stabbed at the thing with her staff, choking with lack of air. From somewhere outside she heard a shriek, though through the writhing net it sounded muffled. Kieci had incinerated her captor, blasting a hole in the thing large enough to let her escape.

"Cloud! Leon!" she called to them, "Keep the rest off of us!" The two of them didn't pay any heed to her command-- they were already doing what they could. Still the noose tightened. "Curse it," the mage gasped, putting her arms out straight to her sides and beginning the chant for the spell she needed. Slowly, as her arms rose, her Dark-enveloped comrades began to levitate into the air, blobs and all. They reached ten feet in the air and Kieci's hands their highest point-- directly above her head. As though someone had opened a trapdoor the captive four dropped from the bottom of the blobs to land on the ground. Some of them met the landing with more grace than others as Kieci, sweat pouring down her face as she held the four blobs in the air, brought her arms down to smack at her sides. The Dark creations exploded, their essence splattering all over the clearing.

"Aero," the mage muttered, "--followed by Combustion." With that she dropped to the ground, her head spinning.

The four she'd freed were shakily recovering as Leon and Cloud struggled to stem the tide. The noose had disintegrated and the remaining Dark creatures had made themselves into a blockade force assailing none but the young men. The two of them were cut off from the others, near the edge of the clearing, and were standing back-to-back as they slashed. Neither of them noticed the tentacles on the ground sliding towards them-- not until the last instant. Leon happened to glance down in the middle of a combo and saw the snake-like projection twining itself around his ankles. He got halfway through "Oh sh--" before his legs were yanked out from underneath him. The same thing happened to Cloud in the same instant and the two of them fell backwards, colliding before they hit the ground.

_Going for shorter chaps…easier to read that way, right?_


	4. Chap 4: First of Many Enemies

Yay, 3 chaps and no reviews yet! That's okay, I'm a patient girl someone distantly laughs… Okay, so I'm lying, but I will wait and see. Thanks for any one who's reading and please review!

Disclaimer: I own what's mine and I don't own what isn't.

** Chap. 4 **

Cloud went down silently, his vision swimming. Leon just grumbled something, blinking furiously to get the waviness out of his eyes. The Dark creatures took advantage of the moment and moved upon them in force again, the two that had tripped them winding up their legs. Leon noticed this and began to hack at the serpentine blob, making it squeal. Cloud sliced his cleanly in half, making two smaller blobs where there'd only been one before.

Another blade slid into the picture, cutting down a Dark creature that'd been prepared to drape itself over the downed fighters as it had the others. Auron cut the thing neatly into quarters as the thing wailed its anguish and slid through the darkness and into the night. The tall man cut down two more, allowing Cloud and Leon to free themselves and get up. The Dark blobs that remained, all diced into many smaller chunks, uttered nasty, high pitched noises as they slid away.

Finally the clearing quieted. The most pronounced sound was Albert's violent coughing-- some of the Dark had worked itself into his throat, choking him, and he was working feverishly to expel it. Auron, his sword resting on his right shoulder, walked over to the ailing king and thumped him once, hard, on the back. A fist-sized, squealing black blob flew from his mouth and disappeared into the shrubbery. Albert looked up at Auron, still panting.

"Thank you."

"No problem." The guardian turned, looking for his charge. "Yuna?" The mage was sitting on the ground where she'd landed, shaking. Upon hearing her name she smiled slightly and stood, leaning on her staff.

"I'm okay. Just a little... shaken." Aerith stood with her, looking around as well. She found what she was searching for-- Cloud was standing next to Leon, dusting himself off. He appeared unhurt and the girl breathed a sigh of relief. _Don't know why I was worried,_ she mused, remembering-_- he's handled much worse enemies than these things._

"Well, that was certainly the last thing we needed," Kieci announced, still sitting on the ground. Suddenly, through the silence, a twig snapped behind her. The rest of the group leapt to attention-- the mage's lips moved rapidly and she lunged to her feet, pivoting and raising her hands just as the man raised his blade to attack. Kieci shouted the last word and the man froze in the middle of his downswing. His seven-foot blade quivered to a halt about a foot above the woman's head. "Dark creation," she snarled, holding still to keep the Stop spell intact. "Who is this?" she demanded of her fellows. For a moment all of them stared.

The man was tall, about six one, and was dressed in a billowing black cape. His waist-length silver hair was crowned by high, spiked bangs that framed a handsome, though unsettling, face. His eyes were a bright, electric shade of turquoise, his lips frozen in a small, disturbing smile.

"Who is it?" Kieci asked again. Her lips were already moving again, starting the chant for yet another spell. Cloud, behind her, stepped forward, his sword drawn. His usually quiet voice was no more than a whisper as he muttered:

"Sephiroth." An instant later the quality of the air around Sephiroth changed. Reality distorted and he vanished.

"Correction to my earlier statement," Kieci said. "_He_ was the last thing we needed. Fortunately I memorized the Teleportation spell. Now," she turned to the people behind her, "who started thinking about their enemies?" Aerith hung her head guiltily.

"I didn't mean to, it just--"

"Don't let it happen again. He will be back, make no mistake about that," Kieci sighed, "I can only transport solid matter so far and at my present state 'far' wasn't very far at all. Twenty miles at best, I think. Still, he won't come after us again tonight. Neither will the other spawn of the Dark. We trounced them well enough to scare them away. Bear in mind, though, that they quickly forget their lessons and will come back once they've regrouped." She took a long look at the six. "You did better than I think I'd anticipated. Impressive, for a first fight. The sloppiness will wear off as the limitations do." Everyone set to gathering their weapons and putting the camp back together.

Everyone except Albert. He approached Kieci, still looking pale and drawn, and said, "Aragorn hasn't returned yet." The mage sized up the honest worry in his eyes.

"I know. I don't think we should fret, though-- the Dark fled in the opposite direction that he went. I believe we'd have heard something if he'd been attacked. I think I'll give him another ten minutes. If he's not back by then we'll go searching." The king nodded and went to retrieve his javelin. Leon, standing at the edge of the clearing with his eyes closed, appeared as though he'd heard something. In a quick, fierce gesture, he cut down a tree branch in front of him and stepped back.

Alright, short chaps for easier reading. Cricket chirps incoherently in background Or not. Well, if no one's reading….but if someone is, please give me some feedback! A simple "I read this" would suffice! Many thanks!

K


	5. Chap 5: Thunder Rising

Aeonian Dreams—THANK YOU FOR MY 1ST REVIEW! I am seriously more excited than you know! Looking forward to reading more of your stories too—and here's your update!

The first fight winds down, but there is a greater danger looming on a distant horizon…

**Chap. 5**

Aragorn stepped through the opening, Legolas at his side. The elf's arm was slung over the Ranger's shoulder, though the former appeared to be clinging to consciousness by a thread. Kieci hurried over to them as Aragorn helped his long-time comrade to sit.

"How is he?" the mage asked. The king's blue eyes met hers in an unspoken exchange, though out loud he replied:

"Fair. He has a wound on the back of his head that's deep, though not grave. He will survive." The elf, his fingers wandering across the cut, affirmed those words.

"It will take more than this to fell one of my kind." Kieci nodded. She'd expected as much but to hear it was reassuring.

"I am glad. You are immortal, after all. Yuna," she called, "bring my beige saddlebag here, if you would." The girl complied, then went back to her cleaning. She, along with Aerith and a few of the others, were busy reassembling their scattered belongings. Kieci handed the bundle to Aragorn.

"You are something of a healer yourself, though not in the same respect as the girls. I believe I can leave this to you?" The Ranger nodded and set to work, removing the items he needed from the pack. Kieci went to renew her spell ring, if only as a precaution. It was nearly an hour and a half later that they all bedded down for good. Not even the apparent necessity for sentries was enough to keep the Nine from their rest.

The night passed without further incident. No sight, sound or presence woke any of the Nine any time before noon the next day. That was odd, as many-- most, actually-- of them were used to sleeping little and rising early.

Aerith and Yuna were the first two awake, with the exception of Kieci. The mage was sitting by the fire and rubbing her hands together, though in the heat of the day it was by no means cold. The two younger females sat on her either side, and Aerith commented quietly:

"You didn't tell us that your magic was so powerful." Kieci smiled, still staring at the flames.

"It isn't. I tapped into my life force for more than a third of what I used last night," she glanced at her hands. "-They're still numb. Appendages are always the first to lose feeling. That's how you know you've gone too far."

"I fear that for us it will not be difficult to do," Yuna added wisely. "If these limitations are as strenuous as you say, we are in for quite a journey."

"Well said, and yes, your are. Know this, though: tapping your life energy is not something to make a constant practice of. If you must, make sure you never let your arms or legs go completely numb. If you pull the energy from your heart or your mind it could very well kill you."

"Magic is very testy here," Aerith mused. "It was never this complicated at home. We had special medications called Ethers that prevented that sort of thing from happening."

"That I know of, they have no such medicine here. It would be helpful, though, if such things existed in Technica."

As the three of them conversed, signs of life had begun to show from some of the other bedrolls. Leon sat up and yawned, running his fingers through his hair. Yuna, her memory jogged, told her two companions:

"I was surprised to see he and Cloud working so well together, after that incident earlier yesterday." Kieci nodded her agreement, still massaging her fingers near the fire's heat.

"I was hoping they would. They do have complementary fighting styles. Regardless of this newfound partnership, I still doubt they will be friendly with one another."

"Cloud isn't really friendly anyway," Aerith offered, "-not really." There came more movement from the others as one by one they rose from sleep to stretch.

"I cannot believe it is past midday already," Albert said, rather shocked to the see the sun already in the first stages of its descent. "I have never slept past daybreak."

"Nor have I," Aragorn added. "This is a strange place indeed." Legolas, beside him, nodded ever so slightly in agreement.

"You'll find breakfast in your packs," Kieci announced. "The have something called 'waybread' in them. I believe that's from your world?" she asked the elf and Ranger; Aragorn nodded. "They must have...well, I honestly don't know how they did it. The technu-"

"Technology?" Aerith offered.

"Yes, that, thank you. The technology they use is beyond my comprehension. Maybe they copied it somehow? Who knows. All that matters is that it's filling, and it lasts. You don't have to eat much to get full." A few members of the Nine pulled out the small, palm- sized waybread and sampled it. Aerith looked to Cloud for his reaction. Catching her eye, he merely shrugged. "Stretch it as long as you can-- only the gods themselves know how long this will take us."

The bustling of further cleanup began then. Each took a few bites of _lembas,_ as the elves of Aragorn's world called it, at his or her leisure as bedding was rolled up, horses were saddled and gear was reloaded. In less than an hour the Nine were ready to start off again.

Kieci and Darkmyth lead at an easy clip for awhile, though eventually she called Aragorn and Albert up the line to ride beside her. The narrow, winding forest trail made this slightly difficult and she was forced to slow their speed a bit. "We'll come to a crossroads before dusk, and it is there that we shall part ways. We won't do so until the morrow, but I wanted to ask you now how you wish the other six divided."

"Your path goes a separate direction?" Aragorn questioned.

"Yes, I must go alone. I can fully shield myself at night, but the rest of you will need the protection of numbers to ward away any Dark advance. We have to charge the three lesser Spheres simultaneously for it to do any good, remember? That means two groups of four and I myself. It is up to you who goes with whom, but you must keep in mind that Auron will not leave Yuna, nor Cloud Aerith. They have set themselves to guarding their charges and will not part from them. Excluding that, the choice is yours."

"We must function again with restrictions," the Ranger commented. "Is it always to be this way?" Kieci looked at him, mildly surprised.

"Are you complaining, son of Arathorn?"

"No," he replied evenly, "I merely wonder how great the odds are to be stacked in our ill favor." Albert remained silent. The sound of the gears of his mind turning were almost audible above the sound of hooves, horse snorts and the rare snatch of a conversation from behind them. The front three rode quietly for several long moments as he contemplated not Aragorn's words, but Kieci's suggestion of arranging groups.

"I think," the Serdian king said finally, "-that it must be Cloud, Aerith, Legolas and myself in a group together, and those remaining with Aragorn," he met his leading companion's eyes. "I figured that because Aragorn and I both can sense the Dark we must therefore be separated, and because I believe it is the general consensus to split Leon and Cloud we must separate them as well."

"Very nicely planned," Kieci commended him. The king, for all his naiveté, was a brilliant strategist. "For all that I agree with your reasoning, does your fellow man agree as well?" Aragorn looked contemplative for a moment.

"I see no alternative. If I must part from my companion, so it must be. He is more than capable of defending himself."

"I'm glad that's settled. I doubt the others will object, but we can propose it to them when we stop for the evening."

By the time camp was set up and everyone had eaten, the question had been posed and as Kieci had thought, it had been met with unanimous agreement from the others. There was almost no discussion among any of the Nine-- it seemed the very air hung heavy with the scent of an attack. Each of them-- royal blood or not-- felt the uneasiness.

"They're all on edge," Auron commented quietly to Yuna. "Did you notice it?" The girl ran her thin hands along her staff, tracing its ornate top with a finger. A slight wind stirred the trees and caught playfully at her tunic.

"How could I not? Leon and Cloud have taken turns pacing so often that their tracks are worn into the ground. Aerith has been staring at the same page in her spell book for over an hour and you, Sir Auron," she craned her neck to look up at him, "-you have not ceased to flex your sword arm as long as we've been conversing." Her guardian's wear-etched face broke into a slight smile as he returned her gaze with his one good eye.

"Observant. Braska'd be proud." Yuna smiled-- it was a high compliment, coming from him. Kieci's voice broke into their conversation as the mage combed her mare.

"For all that it feels like we're about to be assailed, you all really should get some sleep. The only Dark presence near here is Sephiroth, and he's still quite a distance away," she caught Albert's curious glance. "Yes, I have honed my sensing abilities a bit. You will too, once the Dark fog clears out of your head. Trust me-- we won't be attacked by any Dark creatures this night."

"Could it not be something else?" Legolas asked. Beings of his breed healed rapidly, and though he still incurred occasional dizzy spells he had not been slowed by his injury.

"It could be, but many of the wild creatures of this land-- at least the ones I've encountered-- are not much to worry about. There are some types that are quite deadly, but none of them reside anywhere near this area. We will be setting sentries, though, if that relaxes you at all. We'll get someone to take the first hour watch, and we'll go from there. Agreed?"

"I will," Aragorn offered, and proceeded to sit down on his bedroll. He was passed-- uneasily-- by the rest of the nine. Aerith couldn't help but wonder if there were other nasty things that their guide hadn't encountered yet.

'Aerith was shocked out of sleep by a sound like thunder that quaked the ground beneath her. Rising, she found herself standing in a vast meadow at the bottom of a huge hill, a place she knew she'd never seen or visited. Just visible past the rolling mound of green earth before her were the tips of the ramparts of a castle. The ground continued to grumble with some unseen power. Aerith found her hands shaking visibly, and lowered her gaze from the hill's peak.

A group of people stood before her, all of them standing side by side in a line facing the hill. Her eyes traveled down the row and she found she knew almost everyone: Cloud, Kieci, Auron, Albert...all of the others were present as well, all except for one... There were four additional people that she did not recognize standing near the middle of the line: a dashing, raven-haired woman in a black tunic of armor holding a rapier; two young-looking boys, one with fire-red hair and a whip in his hand, the other, slightly taller with light indigo hair and a broadsword; the final, a slender brunette woman with claws sprouting from the gauntlets she wore. Aerith was quite sure she didn't know these people.

She did know the girl on the end, however. A thin, pretty girl with green eyes and a long brown ponytail, clutching a staff and looking nervous. A girl with high-arched bangs and a quiet face, and a gray tunic that had long since replaced her favorite pink gown…

There we go! Much is coming in the next episode…drama drama DRAMA! Please R&R!

K


	6. Chap 6: Death Division

Hello! Another update already! Thanks again to Aeonian Dreams for my first review! Please R&R! The dramatic stuff is coming!

**Chap. 6**

With a start, Aerith realized she was looking at herself. Glancing down at her hands, she found them semi-transparent. Unsettled by this, she called Cloud's name once, as loudly as she could. He did not turn, nor did his gaze shift from the hilltop. She tried calling to the others, to no avail. Disheartened, she was brought back to reality by a loud, shouted spell word from Kieci and a glittering golden energy that fluttered down over the line and vanished.

"Do you feel that?" Kieci asked the others. "It's Aura--- our last leg, and our last hope. If we fall here, we fall for good." She drew a deep, steadying breath, as though preparing herself. The rumble in the ground grew greater. "The horses are gone--_he _let them loose-- so we're at a disadvantage against our foes," she looked at the elf, "Legolas?"

"Orcs," he said quietly. His voice was difficult to hear over the noise. "I know their footfalls even from this distance."

"How many?" the mage wanted to know. The immortal, still staring intently as though looking through the hill, merely replied:

"Many." The line of warriors-- there were twelve, Aerith calculated-- shifted their weapons uneasily as, somewhere over the hill, the advancing force came to an abrupt halt. Legolas's bow came up and settled on the peak again, though now he had visible targets.

Aerith saw the line of men advance over the hill, stopping just down from its top on her side. There were five of them, and she knew four of them immediately for those of the Dark. Sephiroth stood on the far left, a young man with short orange-blonde hair and a billowing white coat beside him. The youth-- Aerith noticed-- bore a sword and a scar identical to Leon's.

On the opposite end of the advancing enemy line stood another young man clothed in jean shorts and a yellow top, this one blonde and bearing a glittering blue blade. His boyish good looks and light blue eyes did not appear suited to the scowl he was wearing. Advancing in towards the middle of the row, the fourth man was another Aerith did not know. Dressed in a black sleeveless tunic accented by his short silver locks, his eyes glittered the same shade as his flame-bladed sword. The four advanced a step behind the man in the center of the line.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, his hair silver as Sephiroth's. It hung long and straight, barely to his shoulders, framing a swarthy face. He, just like the rest of his group, was a swordsman.

The sharp intake of breath that Kieci let out when she saw him was so loud that even Aerith, at her distance, heard it. The girl found herself gripped with worry at what she was seeing, and hurried forward to her comrades just as Kieci was saying: "The one in the middle..." her voice broke, and she cleared her throat, "-don't attempt to fight him. He's mine."

"He's quite a deal larger than you," Albert added, though he, like the others, didn't take their eyes off the line above. "Would it not be wiser to let someone else handle him?"

"Try it and you will be dead before any of us can raise a hand to help you. He's consumed by Chaos-- I doubt that even I can stave him off without..." She wouldn't continue on to say what she'd have to do.

Above them, on the hill, the leader stepped forward a few more steps and called down: "The time for play is over. You will all perish here, whether you beg for mercy or not." That was all he said and, advancing back to the peak, he raised his sword high above his head, yelled: "The twelve fall here!" He let his sword arm fall, and a vile cheer rose into the air. The rumbling started again and a flood of black creatures came pouring over the hill. The twelve braced themselves-- they were few against an army of over a hundred, not to mention the slow downward advance of their other five enemies.

The ghost-Aerith tried to think of a spell only to draw a blank. She had to do _something._ Her heart wouldn't allow her to just stand there and watch the fighting commence. Bending, she tried to pick up the large stone near her foot. It was the only weapon within her range that was not in someone else's hands, though as she reached for the rock her fingers slid right through it. Allowing herself a desperate cry of helplessness, she had no choice but to watch.

The creatures-- (orcs, had Legolas called them?)-- mauled around the opposing warriors, striking out with blades and clubs as they called out with their horrible, gravelly voices. The twelve were forced into small groups or pairs, hacking and slashing and parrying as best they could. Aerith saw Cloud lunge to protect her other self as the girl summoned up a fire spell. Cloud slit the throat of one grizzly foe only to get slashed across the arm by another. He barely flinched and, not losing his rhythm, he gutted his assailant. Black blood ran down his sword as the creature, thrashing slightly, fell to the ground. Cloud disengaged his blade and leapt for a new target.

Aerith's gaze wandered across the madness of the battle, trying almost vainly to search out her comrades. As it seemed, none of them had fallen. Not yet.

It was in the same instant as the mild relief crossed into her mind that she heard the anguished cry. Turning sharply to her left she saw the red headed boy, the raven-haired woman and the dark-clothed youth that she didn't know fighting back-to-back and completely surrounded. The cry had come from the woman-- she fell forward, clutching at a gaping hole in the stomach of her armor. Crimson flooded from around the fingers of her left hand as she covered the wound, trying vainly to fight off two orcs with the rapier in her right. She parried a thrust at her weak left side only to leave her right open; with a choked gasp, she dropped.

The red head let out an angry cry, cutting down two orcs with his whip. The weapon appeared to be laced with thorns and cut straight through all it cut. He managed to fend off several more before he too became overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of those against him. A blade caught his shoulder and the other boy turned to help, but too late. The crimson-haired youth dropped beside the woman, felled nastily by a club. The remaining member of their group cried out fiercely, so loudly it made Aerith flinch to hear the rage and sorrow in the sound. There came a brilliant flash of golden light, not unlike that of an Aura spell. When the flash dimmed Aerith noticed that the boy now was blonde, and was surrounded by a glittering aura of flaming yellow. She watched him jump up above his attackers and hover there, sheathing his sword in the same fluid movement. The girl watched in awe as energy of the same color pooled in his hands. When he released it into a group of orcs their bodies, blown to fragments, splattered the ground.

Appalled by what she was seeing, Aerith turned away, realizing that the two she'd seen fall were gone forever. Their worlds, their homes, as Kieci had said, would be doomed without them. How did any of the others, even the youth who could fly, stand a chance against these odds?

"He really thinks that'll do him some good," an icy voice muttered on her right. Aerith jumped back in fright before she realized that the blonde and the white-cloaked man couldn't see her.

"It looks like it's working," the blonde said simply, frowning. He rolled his blue sword absently as he watched the orcs.

"Not for long." The other man sneered and, grabbing the sharp edge of his gunblade, hurled it javelin-like at the airborne youth. The sword, deadly accurate, impaled him through the back. He managed a strangled gasp before his shimmering aura faded, his blonde hair turned back to its normal color and he joined his comrades. The Dark entity beside Aerith laughed openly and remarked to his fellow, "-told you so." The blonde merely shrugged, unmoved.

Aerith ran away from them, shaking more violently now. She couldn't get rid of the tightening ball of terror and disbelief that was continually tightening in her throat, threatening to choke her. She ran blindly, passing right through the hordes of orcs as though she were no more than a spirit. She came upon Auron and Yuna-- Albert had fallen beside them, his right leg bearing a cut down its entire length. The girl and her guardian fought feverishly to protect the fallen king, but even as Yuna struck three of her enemies with Thunder, Auron was hit from behind by something hard and blunt. His wind gone, he dropped to one knee-- and directly into the downswing of an axe. Yuna turned when she heard him fall and was run through by a tall, burly orc that was foaming at the mouth. The beast pulled his blade from the dead girl's body and finished Albert as well, grinning the entire time. Aerith choked on a surge of bile and raced away again.

_I don't want to see anymore!_ she screamed mentally. _Somebody please get me out of this nightmare!_ She was destined to see it, though-- it was her tragedy to avert. She saw the unfamiliar brunette with the clawed goblets get hewn nearly in half by an orc that was twice her size. Aerith turned away only to see Aragorn matching blades with the Dark silver-haired man with the fire-bladed sword while Legolas, ivy knives shining in the dying light, fought to cover the Ranger's back.

Aragorn parried four sharp thrusts and countered with a lunge of his own, his blade on line with his opponent's open side. In a move that was far beyond human the crimson-eyed man jumped clear over the king as he came forward, cutting him down the back as he landed. Legolas leapt past Aragorn's body and sliced at the man with a rapid side cut. Instead of meeting the elf's challenge, the Dark incarnation simply side-stepped him. Legolas spun, hurling one of his knives-- it hit nothing but air as the man dodged again.

"Even as a nonhuman you pose no challenge to me." The silver-haired man charged Legolas ruthlessly, hewing and chopping at one side, then reversing to assail the other. His fire blade singing as he slit through air, he finally managed to catch the elf, making a clean cut from his shoulder to his waist. Legolas knelt in pain, directly beside the fallen Ranger. The Dark man smiled. "I leave you for the dogs." A wave of orcs rushed forth, swarming the downed immortal. Aerith buried her face in her hands and averted her eyes from the scene.

A renewed shaking of the earth beneath her drew Aerith's attention above, back to the hilltop. Kieci stood there, her scimitar unsheathed in her hand. The swarthy man stood before her, his solid gray eyes churning with white and black spirals.

"I have to stop you. I cannot allow you kill me." The mage raised her left arm high above her head, reaching for the heavens. What looked like smoke formed from nothing, spiraling her arm and continuing upward. The energy expanded and lengthened. The top of the column took the shape of a dragon's head, its body coiling serpentine in the sky.

Below the hill all movement ceased. The orcs, apparently under some enchantment of Kieci's, froze, as did the Dark incarnations. The mage's body shook visibly as her dragon continued to be born from her power. She gave a silent command and the smoke-beast's cavernous jaws opened-- it plunged to the battlefield, churning and tossing orcs left and right as it twined amid their rows, destroying all it came on.

The silver-haired man smiled and raised his broadsword. Kieci's eyes widened in fear.

"You waited too long," he told her--his blade sprouted from her back a moment after. The dragon, unfinished with its task, vanished back into nothingness. The remaining orcs cheered as the mage collapsed to the ground at the man's feet.

"I won't let you do this!" Aerith heard herself scream, though she said nothing. Pivoting, she found her other self stood in the center of a ring of orcs, the glittering bubble of a Protect spell saving her. Cloud kneeled at her feet, his sword lying beside him. His right arm hung limp, slit deeply from shoulder to wrist. "You won't kill us all--I won't allow it!"

"Aerith," Cloud looked up at her, his face drained of all color. His voice was hardly a whisper.

"Don't," the girl insisted. Her body shook. Aerith saw tears in her eyes, feeling them at the same time on her own cheeks. The orc-ring parted in one place to permit a looming figure into the center before it re-closed. Sephiroth hefted Masamune, still wearing the same thin smile he always wore. Ghost-Aerith watched him advance on the last pair of the twelve.

"Foolish girl. This light show will not hold me off as it has done these stupid creatures." One swipe of his sword and the Protect bubble splintered. Cloud forced himself up, swaying with his weapon's weight in his left palm. The Dark Sephiroth turned his glittering eyes on his long adversary-- his disturbing grin fanned slightly wider across his face. "You wish to protect her even now? Ten of the twelve have fallen-- you last two need to go as well. Good-bye, annoyance." Masamune swung right and down in a blink-- how Cloud managed to stop the blow neither Aerith knew. Sephiroth forced his weight down upon his prey, blade on blade, driving Cloud to one knee. His left arm quivered dangerously, his thin strength waning. Still he managed to hold.

The sharp twang of bowstrings split the stalemate. The girl at his side watched in a daze as Sephiroth backed up, allowing Cloud to slump forward. Three ugly black-feathered arrows stood out like markers from the fallen warrior's back, their dark shafts a bristling contrast to his crimson cape. Aerith-- the one that was truly there-- dropped to the ground at Cloud's side, the Fire spell she'd been forming fading from her palms.

"The creatures do not know enough not to interfere, after all," Sephiroth mocked, leveling Masamune with the girl's stomach. To her shock, though, when he spoke next it was not to the Aerith on the ground. His bright eyes fixed on the ghost of her presence, seeing her as no one else had. "You have seen what may yet be averted. The strength of your chain of warriors will still be tested here. Should you hope the outcome different, you must strengthen its links." The words he spoke were aimed directly at ghost-Aerith-- at her, just at her-- and did not sound like at all like something that Sephiroth would've said in her world. "Your allegiance bears one weak soul. Strengthen it, or face the consequences. Fix the mistake that the Dragon cannot correct alone." He paused briefly. "The twelve will fall here regardless of what you do, but if you are fortunate the gateway to Chaos will close and your alliance will stand half a chance against that which is your true enemy." He drew a long breath then, and the look of restrained madness reentered his eyes. Drawing back Masamune he gave Aerith his small smile-- and without another blink he ran her through.'

"Aerith!" The girl sat up straight in her bedroll, her breathing ragged. She frantically looked around her, eyes wide, expecting the worst-- instead she saw noting but their small clearing, the lumps of sleeping people, a dying fire, Aragorn leaning against a tree and puffing thoughtfully on a pipe, the starry sky above her. Kieci knelt at her side, Yuna at her other, both of them looking at her, worried and sleepy. "Are you all right?"

"Nightmare," Aerith whispered. She didn't feel all right, and dragged a hand across her forehead. The skin beneath her fingers was cold and clammy, drenched in a chill sweat. "It was...bad."

"What did you see?" Kieci wanted to know.

_I saw you impaled on the blade of a sword,_ Aerith wanted to reply. _I saw all of you-- all of _us--_ die. I saw us fail._ Instead she said:

"I...don't really remember clearly," she chose her words carefully, "but I think maybe I saw something I shouldn't have. Kieci, what does Trace look like?" Even as she asked she already knew. The mage thought for a moment.

"He's tall, very tall, with silver hair and dark blue eyes," she looked wistfully at the sky, "He's handsome and well built, though his voice is cold. Umm, he's swarthy and his back is covered with lash scars. That about sums it up, but why do you ask? Did you see him?"

"No," Aerith replied, too quickly. "I was just curious. If we ever come across him we should tell him you looking, you know?"

"Good point. I'll have to make sure to pass that on to the others as well. Still...Aerith, are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Positive. Go ahead and get some sleep," she told her. Kieci nodded and returned to her bedroll a little ways away. Yuna, however, had her bedroll positioned right next to Aerith's.

"I think that perhaps you were lying just then," the younger girl said wisely, her smile kind. Aerith couldn't help but smile faintly in return.

"I was," she whispered back, "I don't want to give her more to worry about-- she'd got enough problems already. It's just...I think that my nightmare was more than just a bad dream." Yuna asked why; Aerith relayed the entire dream to her, sparing only the details of their deaths. All of it she told quietly enough to avoid anyone overhearing. When she was finished she asked, "What do you make of it?" Yuna looked troubled, though her face barely showed her unease.

"Perhaps it is a warning-- Sephiroth said we have a weak link in our chain somewhere, but you said there were twelve of us. We here are only nine."

"Do you think the people in the city brought more like they brought us?"

"I suppose it's possible, but if they have it's been since we left. I think Kieci would've heard, though, if they'd done it," Yuna pondered that, then returned to her other thought. "In any case I think we must make sure that we are careful, and that we don't lose anyone between here and the battle you foresaw."

"What do you mean, lose someone?"

"I don't know," the other girl replied. "But we must find out. The weak link must not break." She yawned, then glanced at the position of the moon. "For now we need to let it go, if not for our sake than for the others'." She grinned. "We would be rather unsociable in the morning if we don't sleep some. Try not to have anymore visions, Aerith." Aerith sighed deeply as she laid back down. Inside she deeply wished the same thing.

It was around two a.m. when Leon awoke, nudged out of sleep by a muscle cramp. Massaging his right shoulder, he heard a deep sigh followed by a quiet voice.

"What am I supposed to do? I cannot see all ends, and even if I could..." Propping himself on one elbow, he glanced around the clearing as he searched for the source. Kieci was on sentry duty, sitting by the low fire and talking in low tones to the flames. Pulling his legs free, Leon stood up and, maneuvering around Albert's sleeping form, sat down near the fire as well.

"Do you always talk to yourself in the early hours of the morning?" he questioned. Kieci scowled.

"Do you always greet your comrades with a sharp tongue and a dry comment?" she snapped, though immediately afterward she sighed. "Forgive me. You didn't deserve that." The young man shrugged away her apology.

"Maybe I did."

"Why are you awake?"

"Muscle spasm. What's bothering you?" The mage smiled slightly at his inquiry.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"You're staring at a dying fire and talking to the wind. What do you think?"

"Point made," she looked hard at him. "Do you honestly care that I am troubled?"

"I'm not a total jerk, you know. You can talk to me, if you want. I mean, it'd be less weird than having a conversation with yourself."

"All right, then." Kieci stretched out her legs, cracking her back at the same time. "I am worried, deeply worried, that I am not up to all of this."

"All of what?"

"This situation," she paused, looking around. "I have here the most impressive assembly of warriors that this world--or any, for that matter-- has ever seen. I was set up to lead this group, but how can I when I'm little more than an adolescent caught halfway between witch and warrior?"

Leon chuckled slightly. "Don't waste time getting to the point, do you?" Kieci ignored the crack and continued.

"I have not been around long enough to advise such champions. Legolas, Aragorn, Auron, the three of them intimidate me horribly. I haven't any experience compared to the least of them. Albert? His mental tact far surpasses my own. You, Cloud and Aerith understand and are used to machines, things which I cannot begin to comprehend. Do you see? I dab a little bit in everything, but I have no real mastery in anything that gives me any right to lead."

"Well," Leon considered his next statement, "-it seems to me that you're overreacting. No one else expects you to be an all-knowing leader--no one but you yourself. I think everyone looks to you merely because you know this place better than we do, and you understand the conditions and the limitations of the things we're fighting against." Kieci looked surprised.

"You mean you don't think the others think I talk just to be in charge? That perhaps I am a decent leader?" Leon shrugged again.

"None of us are dead yet-- you must be doing something right." That managed to put a small smile on the mage's lips, and when she met his gaze her eyes were grateful.

"Thank you. I think I can relax some now, knowing that. Thank you, Leon." He stretched, returning to his abandoned bedroll.

"Don't mention it."

By the time the sun was halfway through its ascent the next morning the nine were up, packed and had eaten. It was during the last task that Kieci called them all to a ring around the fire. Looking slightly apprehensive, she launched into her latest news.

"I did some evaluating late last night," the mage began. With a stick, she etched a rough map into the dirt. "There is good news and bad news. Which would you like first?"

"Bad," Aerith answered, very quickly. Bad always came first.

"Very well. The Dark Spheres-- the three lesser that we have to destroy first-- they are no longer--how shall I say it?-- stationary. They used to be positioned in a triangle with vertices directly east, west and north of here," she pointed out three large circles with her stick, "Now, though...they appear to be moving. I haven't the slightest idea how. My magical vision has become clouded in the first few days, but last night it grew weaker than it has ever been here. I can no longer feel the greater Sphere at all," she etched an 'X' over the Sphere's former position. "All of these things-- their causes and their movements-- have become shrouded in a mist that appears steel gray to my Sight."

"What does it all mean?" Yuna questioned.

"The wheels are turning," Kieci replied. "Outside of that, I do not know. Regardless, we have to split up today. My path will be slightly altered but yours should both be similar to what they were. One team must go east, the other west. I think it is to the north that our real troubles lie. We shall soon see."

"We must be going if we wish to cover any ground today," Albert suggested.

"You're right. One last thing, though: should you have to stop in a town and need direction, you need only say that you are friends of mine."

"And you say that _I'm_ arrogant," Leon muttered.

"I did not mean it like that. I've had my share of battles with the Spheres-- all of which I lost-- in and around the areas you're headed to. The villagers there have seen me laid to waste more than once. They know what we're here for, and many of them are willing to help. Their healers have helped me recoup more times than I care to count. Anyway, should you need their aid, all you need say is that you're friends of the Dragon." Aerith's eyes widened slightly. When she looked, she found Yuna staring at her.

"Why are you called that?" Aerith questioned. Once again she had a nasty feeling that she already knew the answer.

"A...particular talent of mine, one that is not based on magic. I can harness the energy of conflicting forces--namely good and evil-- and make it palpable. The ending result is a force of a creature in the shape of a dragon. Unfortunately this energy-- called Chaos--is only really in good supply during large battles. What we dealt with two nights ago didn't even come close to the amount I would need," Kieci's eyes went slightly hazy. "That's why having Trace around was so useful. He's an elemental-- a Chaos Warrior-- so the kind of power he generates is exactly complementary to what I use. But...oh, curse it, I'm babbling. I am called the Dragon, and that's that. We must get going." The ring broke up and the flames of the fire were doused; within another ten minutes the nine were mounted and ready to depart. Aragorn pulled his black stallion up beside Kieci's paint and told her:

"It takes strength to admit one's loses." The Dragon smiled slightly, though the look on her face was forlorn. Her green-hazel eyes met the Ranger's blue ones.

"If I were truly strong I wouldn't've lost." She handed him a small glass ball, then reined Darkmyth to the right and walked the animal away from him. "Albert's team will be heading east, Aragorn's west. To the kings...the glass spheres are communication devices. If you need urgently to speak with me, you need only say my name and I will hear you through my globe. The magic is already inside them. As for everyone together," she took one long, absorbing look at the rest of the riders. "May the gods watch over you all." That stood as her farewell-- Darkmyth spun, rising on his hind legs before doing a pivot and galloping off down the northern trail. The eight stood in one moment of silence. No further words were needed. The two groups spurred their mounts and were gone, leaving their good-byes in two recessive clouds of dust.

_To be continued..._

The plot thickens in the next installment, when the Nine discover that there are nasty things that they hadn't been warned about lurking in the shadows...


	7. Chap 7: An Eye for an Eye

Welcome back and thank you for continuing to read, "A New Breed of Darkness." As you now know, there are many characters in this story, and all of them must learn to coexist and work as teams to survive. They're soon going to find that overestimating one's abilities is never a good idea, though...

"_A fatal mistake isn't fatal until it's too late."_

-Kieci of Ansramiece

**7. An Eye for an Eye…**

"There are your three. As you probably guessed, we had no choice."

"Kieci will be furious," the Technican girl said simply, finger combing her chin length brown hair. "She was furious at having to request _any_ help, and now you've brought more. I'm not complaining, though, not if what you said about the smaller Spheres is true. Who'd you get me?" The engineer motioned behind him, indicating a window overlooking a metal room.

"A Dragoon, a half-Saiyan and a demon," the man pointed as he named them off. "Rose, obviously, is the black haired woman with her back to everyone else. The kid with the indigo hair is your Saiyan. He's a big resource, if you do it right."

"How do you figure? He can't be a day past sixteen. How's a child going to help?"

"If you consider that the child can fly and channel energy thorough his hands, I'd say he'd help quite a bit. Now, the redhead that looks like a kid as well is your full-blooded demon, Kurama. He's about three hundred years old, give or take."

"What do we have weapons wise?" The girl wanted to know.

"Two swordsmen and a--what in the Hell would you call him? --Well, Kurama...he does stuff with plants. You've got two that can fly and all three can shape-shift one way or another. You got personalities from both ends of the spectrum, too."

"Magic?"

"Nope. Only thing Rose can do is Dragoon magic, and that's not really magic. It's-"

"Don't launch into the whole 'difference between magic and bodily energy exertion' or whatever it is you say. Define shape-shift," Tari demanded, quickly changing the subject.

"Kurama is a spirit fox, whatever the Hell that means. Rose outfits herself in a huge coat of armor and the kid," he snickered, "and the kid turns his hair blonde and yells a lot. Fights like a devil when he's like that, though. Basically, you got the weird ones."

"How fortunate for me. I'll be off then. They'll follow me?"

"For the most part. Don't forget- you have to relay the news to the Dragon about the Spheres. This could get a lot more dangerous very quickly if the readings were correct."

"Of course. Alpha, Ultima and Omega right?" Tari asked, double checking her facts.

"Yep."

"And you've explained to these three about the Dark and why they're here?"  
"Yes. All of the difficult stuff is done for you. All you've got to do is get them where they've got to be."

"Good. About time you Industry people did a little work."

The thin, beautiful woman paced restlessly, her long raven hair flying behind her like a cape. The demon across the room smiled slightly at her obvious frustration.

"Are you nervous, madam?"  
"I am not nervous," Rose snapped, blue eyes glinting dangerously. "I'm stuck in this stupid room with my so-called "partners." Some partners two kids will make."

Kurama looked at her with gorgeous, deep green eyes, a small smile on his lips.

"You need not fret about my age, I assure you. I am able to fight." His voice was soft and he spoke with an inexplicable air of wisdom; he was dressed in a white tunic and pants, with a red sash that served as a belt. His flame red bangs arched over his forehead, the rest flowing to rest a bit past his shoulders.

"I'm sure," Rose commented, folding her arms over her chest.

Kurama nodded, still smiling slightly, and turned his attention back to the long-stemmed rose in his hand. Still restless, Rose found her other partner leaning against the wall with his head bowed slightly, his eyes on the floor.

The young man was well built for someone of his age; his arms and chest were impressively muscled. He was dressed modernly in a pair of loose black pants, light brown boots, a black tank top and a short cut, dark blue denim jacket. A sword in a red sheathe was strapped across his back; his shoulder length hair was a very light shade of indigo. The Saiyan's eyes were navy blue and thoughtful. "How about you, boy? We're supposed to be warriors-- how long've you been fighting, a month?" He didn't reply-- just blushed slightly. Rose scoffed. "Timid! May God help us if you end up being our last leg in a fight."

"Don't judge a book by it's cover," Tari scolded, walking in--she was smiling, "Though I have to agree with you. I wouldn't put my money on him despite the fact that he's built. The engineers say he's been fighting since he was old enough to walk."

"That's still not very long," Rose commented. She was still frowning. She was clothed in what looked like dark purple steel, her entire dress-like tunic being fully working armor. The garment cut off at the tops of her thighs, and was edged in gold trim.

"True. They said he'll pull his weight, though. But just for the assurance of the rest of us, the first bout's yours, Wonder boy." The Saiyan still didn't comment. "All right, enough picking on the little one-" it was ironic that she called him 'little' seeing as how he was three inches taller than her, "-we need to get some sleep. This way please." Heading for the door she was reluctantly followed by the others. Glancing behind her at the somewhat motley assembly, she sighed. "This is going to be a treat."

-------------

Albert's team rode hard clear through nightfall, stopping only once. Legolas, with his uncanny eyesight, led after the sun had set. The four didn't ride long past dark, though; the elf was still having problems with dizzy spells, and even his keen eyes couldn't see through the absolute black to find the trail.

"It would be in our best interests to stop for the evening," Albert called, reining in his roan to a halt. Cloud and Aerith, directly behind him, did the same. As all of them dismounted, Legolas massaging his left temple with his free hand. Aerith noticed.

"Are you all right?"

"I am troubled. There is a fell tinge to the air, but I am too distracted to decipher the cause," he looked at Albert, who shook his head.

"It is not the Dark. It hasn't got that nagging, evil feel. I don't know what it is you're sensing, Legolas-- I don't have your foresight," he unsaddled his horse, laying out food and his bedroll as his fellows did the same. "Aerith, can you shield us magically?"

"Somewhat. I don't know how well it will work, though. I can use the same spell Kieci did, but I've got a feeling mine will be more sensitive. I tried a small one last night and when Leon crossed into it my mind started-- I can't describe it...screaming, I guess. It was horrible."

"At least it works," Cloud objected. "If it's that responsive to an ally it ought to alert you immediately for an enemy."

"Yes, I guess so." She grabbed her staff, encircling their makeshift camp with a glittering blue line on the ground. "I'll sit first watch, after we've eaten." That was regarded with agreement, and Albert agreed to take on the second shift. After their meager meal the males all progressed to their bedrolls and sleep while Aerith, her knuckles white on the pole of her staff, sat up and peered into the darkness.

----------------

Albert heard the twigs and branches rustling through the stillness of the night, parting their way beneath the body of what sounded like a large, slithering creature. The king listened intently as the noise grew louder, closer, circling their camp, staying ever outside the reaches of the firelight and Aerith's barrier. It was when the threats started that he grew truly worried.

"Filthy humans," the voice was sinister and low. Every 's' it spoke was drawn out in a long, exaggerated lisp. "Invading our grounds like this. Mistress will not be happy, not at all. Disgusting creatures-- don't even taste decent." Albert sprung to his feet, his javelin poised and ready. The result was a cackle from the shadows. "Ooh, it will poke us with its sharp stick. Is that all it can do? Mistress will teach it a lesson--rend it, break its bones..."

"Cloud," Albert shook the younger man awake. "Cloud, wake up." He shifted, rolling over onto his back and peering up at the king.

"What is it?"

"Something is wrong."

"We knew that before we went to bed," he was slightly annoyed, though he caught the obvious tension in the other man's features and backed down. He reiterated his previous question, grabbing his sword as he got up. "What is it?"

"I don't know for sure. It plans on coming after us, though. I do know that." Cloud took a firmer grip on his sword's hilt.

"Then let's go get it instead." The two of them left Legolas and Aerith asleep--the elf because of his injury, the girl because she'd just gotten off the watch. They quietly moved outside the glittering blue ring, being careful to stay near the trail. The slithering sounds began again, the leaves rustling loudly as whatever it was put on a burst of speed and lunged from the shadows.

Albert pivoted in time to spare his neck from a sharp pair of fangs; the creature hissed angrily and slid back, its forked tongue lashing the air. Cloud took a receding step away at the same time the king did--neither had ever seen anything of the like.

It was indeed a serpent, though its snake half was large, stretching ten feet in length. Its top half was the disturbing part-- the torso of a human male fused easily into the serpent portion at the abdomen. The his face was a nasty mix of both species, adorned with a snake's fangs, forked tongue and slanted, slit-pupiled eyes. His head was crowned with wild, dark brown hair.

"It acts quickly," the serpent-creature hissed, grinning wickedly, "-but not quickly enough." Cloud watched the thing in obvious shock. Its green eyes glittered oddly, ensnaring his gaze, making him unable to look away. Something about those eyes...

"Albert!" Cloud tore himself free, blinking furiously. The thing wasn't paying him any heed-- neither was Albert. The king was caught in its hypnotizing stare the same as Cloud had been. As he stood paralyzed the serpent slid towards him, its human hands clenching in its eagerness. Albert was frozen in place, lost in the consuming spiral of the predator's eyes.

"Did you forget about me?" The snake-man whirled in shock in time to see Cloud's enormous sword descending upon him. With an angry shriek he dodged, whipping his tail in his surprised fury and sliding quickly out of range. Cloud leapt after his prey, whirling his blade in an enormous back-swung arc. The snake-thing screeched as the tip of the sword slit a crimson tear down its back. In a breath, though, the pursuer became the pursued and tables were turned; furious about being wounded, the creature lashed out at Cloud with his long tail, slashing the side of his face and knocking him down with the same motion.

"It has bite," the thing snarled. The blonde man didn't respond as he rose, and despite it all the snake smiled again, "-but it is about to get bitten." A tree crashed in upon itself as a huge form shot into the scene--Cloud was slammed to the ground beneath the crushing weight of a new foe. Thick, powerful coils wound themselves around his body before he had any time to react.

_Yayness…updated! Please review and let me know what you thought!_

_K_


	8. Chap 8: Fatal Flaw: WEAPONS

Yup, 2 updates at once—dances—so yay! Please R&R—we're getting into the thick of the story now! Woo-hoo………

**Chap. 8: Fatal Flaw—Enter the WEAPONS**

As is often the case with serpents, the female was a good deal larger than her mate. Her snake-half measured a full eighteen feet, every inch of it constricting her prey. She wove her delicate human hands into her captive's hair as he struggled, tasting the essence of his fear as she slowly squeezed the breath--and the life--from his body. Her facial features matched those of the male, though her eyes glowed a steady orange instead of florescent green and her hair, thick and curly, was a dark shade of blonde. Dying in her coils was dying amid beauty.

Cloud had no intention of dying, though at present there was nothing he could do. His enormous blade had fallen to the ground and his arms were pinned tightly to his sides. Already he could feel the pain tearing at his chest as his lungs labored to draw breath. The sound of his heartbeat thundering in his temples was so loud, the noise so consuming, that he heard nothing else. All was pounding and silence... until he heard two of his ribs snap under the power of the tightening vice. A fresh surge of pain assaulted his nerves from his head to his ribcage, making him grimace. The snake, in turn, smiled. Pulling her hands back, she forced her prey to look up at her taunting, fanged grin. There was still rage, pain, and a small amount of fear, but in essence she could see the fire draining from those electric blue eyes.

Albert had slowly come back to his senses when his comrade had attacked his captor, though what truly brought him back into the reality of the moment was a loud SNAP! and a gasp of pain. _What..._ he shook his head hard, trying to clear it. When his eyes refocused the first thing he saw was the male serpent hissing swiftly to another larger female. The icy ball of shock exploded in his heart as Albert realized what it was she had in her coils. Clutching his javelin, the king charged forward.

The male serpent dodged almost too late; the tip of Albert's weapon nicked the female instead. Hissing her obvious fury she made several angry gestures with her left hand, still grasping Cloud's hair with her right. A fresh wave of urgency besieged Albert. Roaring, he lunged again.

"Not this time!" the male snarled, lashing out with his tail. Albert hurdled just as it would've tripped him, striking at the male's open chest. The javelin scored a deep gouge diagonally from his shoulder to his human waist, spilling dark blood onto the dusty ground. In a retaliatory move that came too quickly the serpent swung out the end of his tail, coiling the last two feet of it neatly around the man's throat. Albert choked, his wind cut off, as the creature dragged him upright. The two of them stared face to face as the king tried to claw the noose off. The serpent's tongue hang limp from the side of his mouth; he panted freely as blood spilled down his chest. He yanked his prey closer, hissing:

"When I die, it goes with me," he glanced at his mate and her soon-to-be meal and added, "Its friend goes first."

"Never," Albert growled in a forced whisper. The serpent scowled and tightened his grip, cutting off breath as well as blood supply. Any more pressure and he'd snap his prey's neck. They both knew it.

_I won't...let it end here, _Albert swore mentally. His hand wandered to the jade-colored gem that hung on a chain around his throat-- a memento from his home world, and the real reason he'd be chosen as one of the original nine. This was his power: a Dragoon spirit, a powerful force controlled not by magic but by the energy of the spirit. The only question that stood was, would it work?

A brilliant shimmer of jade colored energy lit the black clearing and registered in Cloud's darkening eyes. He heard the male serpent squealing in agony at the intensity of the light, though as the glimmer faded Cloud saw the real reason the creature was worried. Albert stood--no, he _hovered_--a foot off the ground, his entire body covered in armor the same shade as the light had been. Two segmented metal wings sprouted from behind his shoulder blades. Their beating kept him aloft and stirred the dust into a smokescreen. Cloud closed his eyes against the stinging storm, the scene before him eclipsed by darkness.

An inhuman scream tore through the air as Albert shot like a bullet at the male serpent. The two of them collided, the Dragoon fastening his gauntleted hands around the creature's throat. As it choked and sputtered he leaned in close and growled, "How does it feel to be the one without breath?" The male's green eyes were wide and afraid, though even as he stared in fright his human nails raked across the king's cheek. Albert snarled and, dropping the creature, shouted, "Gaspless!" A whirlwind blew up from nowhere as the king began to shimmer again. Leaves shot past him, sharpened by the wind; when they flew past the creatures small cuts formed on their arms and faces. The wind and light intensified and a beam of energy--still the same jade-colored light-- hit the male full in the chest and blasted him through the trees.

Aerith clutched her temples and screamed as the creature's limp body crossed her line. In the same breath Legolas woke, covering his sensitive ears against the shattering sound of the girl's voice. Aerith sat up, quivering, as the elf leapt to his feet, his bow strung and an arrow already set.

Back in the clearing they hadn't heard the scream-- Albert the Dragoon and the female serpent had reached a stand-off.

"Release him." The king's voice sounded his position. Regal, angry and commanding, he'd never looked so menacing. "Do it or I will be forced to act." The female scowled and, hissing, wagged a finger at him.

"It cannot attack. I'll snap its friend in half if it moves." She had the upper hand and Albert knew it. He was weakening: his armor grew heavier every second and he could feel the Dragoon spirit pulling energy from his body at too rapid a rate. The female saw the paleness of his face and knew she had won. "Why does it not leave? Its friend is nearly dead anyway-- its eyes darken. Why does it not walk away?" Gritting his teeth against the faint that was threatening to overpower him, Albert snarled his reply.

"I will never walk away." The serpent rose up like a cobra, still crushing Cloud's body within her coils. Her face contorted in anger.

"It is stupid. I will---" Albert never leaned what she was going to do because her words broke off into a straggling scream. An arrow sprouted from the back of her shoulder and the serpent, clawing at it and screeching in pain, relaxed her lower half. Cloud fell to the ground, coughing fitfully as oxygen flooded into his screaming lungs. His rapid gasping brought on a new surge of pain-- the movement made his broken ribs throb violently.

Another screech, and another arrow-- this one flaming-- struck the female right where her human half met her serpentine half. She spun, trying to pull it loose as the burning shaft torched her scales. Her ringing cries were cut short as a final shot, one final arrow, sprouted from her throat. Her massive body toppled onto the forest floor, convulsing its final times in death. Legolas and Aerith stepped through the trees in time to see the shut-down flash of jade light as Albert returned to normal. Completely drained beyond his reserves, the king was out cold before he hit the ground. Legolas kept his bow at the ready, watching the trees and the darkness for any sign of a further attack.

"Cloud!" Aerith rushed to his side. He was still lying in the dirt, so ravaged by pain that he couldn't force up the will to make himself move. The girl noticed the angry red areas where the serpent's scales had ground against his skin. "Cloud..."

"I'm fine," he assured her. As he sat up, though, she saw him clutch at his torso. Catching her gaze, he admitted, "Broken ribs." Looking around, he saw Albert lying in a heap amid the brush. "How is he?"

"I don't know," Aerith rose, walked over and knelt beside him. "He's unconscious," she called back. "Other than that, he looks okay. Legolas?"

"The tainted feel has left the air. All is quiet now." The elf lowered his bow and put away his arrow.

"We need to get these two back to camp-- my medical supplies are there." Legolas nodded.

"I shall retrieve the horses and return." Within a blink he was gone and Aerith returned to Cloud.

"Are you really all right? You look horrible."

"Thanks. Yes, I'm okay-- I can breathe now. That makes everything better." He fell silent then, still in pain from his broken bones.

"Who saved whom?" Aerith questioned quietly, glancing at Albert and the body of the dead serpent.

"We saved each other.

-------------------------------------------

Kieci was bothered out of meditation by a buzzing and vibrating in her belt pouch. Drawing out a small glass orb, the sphere lit and Tari's face appeared. The Dragon looked down on the orb without any hint of good nature.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Nice to see you too," Tari replied, her sarcasm heavy. "You really should lighten up, Kieci. You're going to get wrinkles if you don't stop frowning so much."

"That is the most idiotic thing I've ever heard," the mage snapped. "I was in the middle of trying to understand the Sphere's movements. If you have nothing important to tell me, close the connection and leave me the--"

"That's exactly why I called you," the Technician interjected. "The guys at the Industry figured out what's going on."

"Really."

"Yes. The three lesser Spheres have manipulated their energy and turned themselves into living beings in the form of three massive monsters, codenamed the WEAPONS. I don't feel like breaking down the acronym for you, but anyway, they come in varying strengths." She paused to see if Kieci was going to interrupt. She didn't, so Tari pressed on. "We have now the Alpha, Ultima and Omega Weapons to deal with, Alpha being the weakest. On the plus side, they can't create the Dark blobs anymore. On the con, though, they now have full mobility and combat initiative. This could pose a problem to villages, or to the people you sent out after them."

"My groups are in danger?" Kieci's voice went tight. "I have to warn them--"

"It's okay for now. None of them are anywhere near where the Industry's intelligence said the Weapons were last seen. You're the closest, but you passed Death's Wake of the east side and went right by the Alpha Weapon. Fortunately I'll be taking it out for you tomorrow."

"Death's Wake," Kieci let the name sink in, "The old castle...? But what did you mean when you said you're going after the Weapon there? You have no combat experience and you're no mage. How do you plan on standing a chance?" Tari smiled through the channel magic connection.

"I have backup." The Dragon stared at her for a moment, then:

"Tari, you didn't...!"

"You're right, I didn't: the Industry people did, this morning. There's only three of them."

"Three!"

"Yes. I knew you'd be pissed. You always overreact."

"You can't send them against a Sphere--Weapon--whatever, not this soon. With the limitations they'll be slaughtered!"

"O ye of little faith. They'll be fine. It'll take us a day and a half to drive there--yes, _drive_, I hate horses-- and by then we'll be fine. I got the odd ones but they look pretty tough. They said the kid can fly, but...I don't know. I haven't seen them in action yet."

"You're a fool. I'm not going to let you doom three worlds just because you're eager to outdo me. I'll turn back and take care of the thing myself..."

"You won't," Tari objected. "You can't. You exhausted yourself magically with that last fight. I don't care how good you are-- you can't take on even the weakest Weapon alone and with no reserves to draw upon. It would mean death for you and your world. Kieci, trust me," her voice softened, "-I won't let anything happen."

"You won't let it, perhaps-- but the Weapons will." Kieci cut off the connection, tossing the globe back into the pouch on her belt. Grumbling about foolish allies and unnecessary risks, the mage sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

_Please R&R, or just say "I read this!" ……IS anyone reading this…?_

_K_


	9. Chap 9:The Folly of Inexperience

_Well, here's chap 9, up and posted finally. Please R&R, you know the drill_

_The folly of brash inexperience is a danger to he that wields it. The problem is that the danger is hardly self-contained…_

**Chap 9: The Folly of Inexperience**

The next morning the new four were up early and gone before the sun had fully risen.

"So where're we headed?" Trunks yelled over the roar of the engine after they'd driven a long while. Unlike the nine, the four could all fit in one vehicle and since Tari obviously despised horses, they'd settled on taking a car. The Technican girl had seen to it that there was plenty of gas tucked along with their supplies.

"To Death's Wake, on the Sangren Fields," Tari called back. "We haven't as far to go as the others." She found a large circular clearing in the middle of the trail and cut the vehicle's engine. "Remember the three smaller Spheres they told you about? They're not Spheres anymore. They've somehow manipulated their energy to form themselves into three living creatures: the Alpha, Ultima and Omega Weapons. We're going after the Alpha, which supposedly resides at the Wake." The four filed out of the jeep-like vehicle, stopping for a break and lunch.

"Is that going to be our first battle?" Kurama wanted to know.

"Doubt it," she replied. "The blobs are all over the place. We'll see action before we get that far, which is good: you need to understand the limitations you're going to have to function with."

"Speaking of limitations," Rose cut in from her spot leaning against a tree, "-what was that about males not being able to use magic here?" Everyone stopped their moving to pay closer attention; Tari shrugged her bony shoulders.

"They can't, but that really doesn't affect this group at all. Kieci has the guy magic users, and they are the ones at a disadvantage with the loss of their spells. All of the guys we have draw their energy from their life force, so the special attacks they have come from that and not magic."

"What's the difference?" The older woman wanted to know.

"Well, magic and life force are two totally separate things. Take your Dragoon magic, for example-- you draw that from the core Dragoon spirit you wear, and that jewel is connected to your life force. You siphon off power from your body itself to do those types of spells. It's the same with Kurama's plant manipulation and so on. Life force, ki, spirit energy...what ever you call it, it's all the same thing. Magic is just magic. That's why this set can still function normally, with the exception of the Dark's limitations. Now," she lugged what looked like a cooler out of the undercarriage of the jeep. "Who's hungry?" The others came to her at that, all except Trunks- he was staring at the trees with a frown on his face.

"You know, we really seem like our mission isn't important," Tari was saying as she pulled lunch out of the cooler. "I mean, Kieci insisted they get chain mail and extra weapons for everyone in her party. I didn't think it was necessary, seeing as how this will only take us a week. Not only that, we've got Alpha and by the sounds of it, he's a pushover."

"It would not do to underestimate our enemy," Kurama said quietly. "I have seen others make that mistake and the rate of their survival is not a promising percentage."

"We'll be all right," Tari said stubbornly, "-assuming you guys are as good as they say you are." She ceased talking and took a large bite of her sandwich.

Trunks still hadn't joined them. He kept staring out at the trees, his fists clenched. Anxious, he turned to the others.

"Does anyone else feel that?"

"Feel what?" Tari asked. "The only thing I feel is hungry." She didn't seem to be genuinely interested. "What's the matter, Wonderboy? I don't see anything. Why don't you stop staring and eat something-- I wouldn't want you to faint from weakness later on." The half-Saiyan's cheeks went slightly red and he turned back to the forest, still looking uneasy. Kurama picked himself up off the ground, dusting off his white pants as he took a small bite of his food. Walking over, he stood beside Trunks.

"What do you sense?" he questioned.

"Well, it's weird. Usually I sense only power levels...you know, how strong someone is. This just feels wild. Wild and strong...definitely _not_ an easy one." Trunks replied. He closed his eyes, tapping into his sixth sense to try and figure out what was headed their way.

"You can't sense the Dark, regardless of what you could do at home," Tari called smartly. "You don't have royal--"

"My father was a prince," the boy snapped, cutting her off. "I'm telling you, something's coming." From the midday shadows of the trees, there came a roar and a distant sound of crunching leaves; the rest of the four were up now, their lunch wolfed the rest of the way gone and forgotten. Rose drew her sword; Kurama pulled a long stem rose out from underneath his hair.

"That doesn't sound like a blob," Tari whispered. Everything had gone quiet, except for the cracking of branches that was getting nearer. She held up her hands, and Rose noticed she wore gauntlets that covered her arms from her elbows to the tops of her hands. A quick flick of each wrist and four six-inch steel claws slid smoothly out of the metal near her knuckles. When she noticed her looking she smiled slightly and said "I'm not good with long weapons."

Whatever was coming was getting dangerously close. Remembering what Tari had said to him just before they'd left, Trunks stepped away from Kurama and readied himself. Before anyone had time to ask what he was doing there was a sudden burst of wind and a flash of golden light. When it died a full Super Saiyan stood where Trunks had: golden energy flickered around his body like fire, casting light into the crevices at the edge of the clearing. His hair had turned into a dark shade of glittering blonde and was whipping in some unfelt breeze; when he opened them, his eyes were bright turquoise blue instead of navy.

"...the Hell are you doing?" Tari growled, somewhat unnerved by the waves of power that the boy was radiating.

"You said that the first one was mine, right?" A nasty little smirk settled briefly on his lips, though it faded back to a scowl as their enemy came rushing through the trees.

If the four had expected anything, it wasn't what came at them just then. The creature was huge, twelve feet at the shoulder, and it stood on its hind, trunk-like legs. Its leathery hide was dark gray-- its eyes were a beady blood red. The thing resembled a giant bull, for it had a bull's enormous curved-out horns just above its eyes. At their base the horns were as thick as Rose's thigh, making them obscenely large for the beast's somewhat small head. It could not have been a vegetarian, though-- it had a predator's forward-facing eyes and a snarling muzzle crowned with jagged teeth. Each of its paws was the size of a plate and rimmed on one side by silvery, seven-inch claws.

"Behemoth," Tari choked. She subconsciously took a step away from it. "They didn't even give us a warm-up."

"This one's mine," Trunks growled. He extended his arms out in front of him, his first four fingers touching to form a diamond-like shape. A shimmering ball began to form there, though the Saiyan suddenly began to look worried. Regardless, he kept calling forth his energy until it was the size of the behemoth's head. Once it was ready, he let it soar.

The behemoth roared in fury as the blast hit it in the chest and shattered, shooting small beams of energy into the forest. Several trees fell on the edges of the clearing as the arrows of Trunks's energy tore threw them.

"It bounced off," he gasped. They were forced to scatter as the beast dropped to all fours and rushed them. Tari dove one way, Kurama another. Trunks hovered into the air, closely followed by Rose. There had been a short flash of black light when the boy had fired, and Rose had gone Dragoon: she now had full plate armor of black covering her entire body and huge, glistening metal wings sprouting from the steel covering the backs of her shoulders. She was one of Albert's companions, a friend and fellow hero from his world.

The behemoth was angry about missing and leapt after Trunks, its powerful jaws snapping. The Saiyan extended two fingers and shot small beams at the thing's eyes, darting higher to avoid its teeth at the same time. These blasts connected, and blood flew. The creature beast-screamed and dropped back to all fours, pawing at its ruined eyes.

"There," he called down, pivoting in midair, "How was that?"

"Not bad," Tari yelled back; a moment later she had to dart away again as the behemoth came after the sound of her voice. Rose and Trunks hovered down side by side.

"We need to kill this thing," Rose said wisely, "One beam wasn't enough to get through its hide, but maybe two will work. When I call up my Death Dimension you channel your energy into the spell. Got it?" The Saiyan nodded.

The Dragoon raised her sword above her head. Almost immediately bands of black energy began to swirl around the rapier's blade, rising above into a strangely dark noon sky. Trunks made to follow suit and tried to call more energy into his hands. A small golden ball came, though as soon as it was as large as his palm it flickered and disappeared. He frowned and tried again. The same effect came the E"second time.

"What's wrong?" Rose demanded, though she was watching the behemoth. The thing whirled in fast circles, sniffing desperately for a target.

"Nothing," Trunks lied. The Dark's limitations were nastily clear to him now: he couldn't even pull a simple energy blast into his hand. That meant his transformation had burned too much of his power and now his energy was running low. Considering he was used to about ten times the energy he'd used, that was bad. Since his normal supply was gone, the Saiyan did the only thing he could do: he drew the power straight from his base life energy itself. This was a dangerous practice. If one drew too much the body, out of juice to keep itself functioning, would shut down. Deciding Rose didn't need to know that, Trunks called forth the golden ball and said nothing.

"Damn," Tari gasped, sneaking past the behemoth as it lunged. For some reason the thing wheeled to face Trunks and Rose. Lowering its head, the thing pulled back its hackles in a dagger-toothed smile and charged.

The Saiyan was looking up as he slid the golden ball into the column of Rose's black Dragoon spell. She watched as well, nodding her approval of the immense increase in power that the boy's energy was giving her. Neither of them saw the beast bolting at them, not until the ground rumbled under their feet--and by then it was too late.

_Yayness! I know SOMEONE'S reading it b/c I have a review, and the stats are pretty good…so please, just hit the magic button below! More soon!_

_-K-_


	10. Chap 10: Repercussions of Folly

_Hello again…this is gonna be the usual….Thanks to Aeonian Dreams—this girl rocks my socks to the floor! Yayness! Please R & R!_

**Chap 10: The Repercussions of Folly**

Rose didn't hear her own scream, though she did hear another cry from her left. Time seemed to slow as she looked to the source. The woman saw Trunks's body whip backwards, a long ivory pike forcing its way into his chest. In the same motion the fiery energy field around him died and his hair--flying forward from the breeze that swept up behind them--slid from spiky blonde back into straight indigo. He wilted forward, slumped over the horn whose tip was now sticking unceremoniously out of his back.

The pain registered with Rose then, and she choked. The behemoth's other horn had speared her, slicing itself cleanly through her upper chest near her right shoulder. The most terrible pain she'd ever felt coursed through her body, making the side corresponding to the injury go limp. She felt as if white-hot needles were being stabbed into her chest from her throat to her stomach. She coughed and was startled to see her own blood fly from her lips.

Kurama and Tari had frozen when the cries of pain had rung across the clearing. Now they watched, paralyzed in shock as the behemoth raised itself onto its hind legs, toting the two impaled on its horns a full fourteen feet into the air. Tari stared, wide-eyed, her mind reeling-- she had no idea what to do. Fortunately, the spirit fox did: calling on a small amount of his spirit energy, Kurama worked his abilities on the rose resting in his palm. A burst of rose petals later and a seven foot long, thorny whip rested in his hand. Each of the deadly looking thorns was a finger's length long. Charging forward with elegant speed, the redhead cracked the whip once-- it raked across the behemoth's withers and it roared in agony, though it didn't return to all fours as he'd intended.

Rose was very dizzy. To her surprise, she found herself--caught in what felt like suspended animation-- wondering if Trunks was still alive. The horn had narrowly missed his heart, if indeed it had missed at all. To her further shock, the thought made her angry, despite the pain she was in. A tingling feeling lingered behind stabbing of her wound. Suddenly she remembered the Death Dimension she had prepared and not fired. Some of its power was gone, drizzling out of her much like the blood running down the pike she was stuck on, though there was enough left for her to channel. Taking her rapier from her bloody right hand into her left, she pulled what energy she had left and called it into her blade. Somewhat revitalized, she readied herself for her one shot.

Kurama saw her attack. Black fire sprang up along the blade of the sword that she now wielded with her left hand. In one fluid motion the Dragoon gave her wings a powerful pump, whipping the sword down at the same time. The behemoth shrieked as its right horn was sheared off near the tip--Rose cried out weakly as she ripped her body free of the beast's other horn. Kurama leapt forward; he couldn't catch the unconscious Saiyan before he hit the ground, but he acted just in time. Grabbing the boy's jacket he drug him out from under one of the behemoth's enormous forefeet as it came crashing back to earth. Unfortunately for the spirit fox the same foot that he saved Trunks from was tipped with those long claws, all four of which raked down his back as he leapt away. Gasping aloud in pain, Kurama tumbled to the ground, still managing to drag Trunks with him.

Tari was ready for action now. Steadying herself, she yelled:

"Hey branch breath, come and get me!" The behemoth reeled, following the sound of her voice; it charged directly at her, its head lowered and its mouth open in a fury of a roar. It opened wider, snapping down on the girl with one huge bite.

The behemoth impaled itself Tari's claws. The metal pikes rammed up through the thing's mouth and into the innards of its head.

The beast quivered, its cry drowned in a sudden flood of deep purple blood. Without any final call, the thing's legs buckled and it crumpled to the ground. Tari drug herself out from under the corpse, covered head to toe in the purple liquid.

"Bastard," she growled, though as soon as she was free she hurried to Rose.

The woman's Dragoon status was ending, and the last of the glittering black light bore her fainting to the ground. Tari reached her as her feet reached the earth. The woman collapsed into the Technican's arms. Helping to lie her down, Tari called to Kurama, "How's Trunks?"

"I'm here," came a quiet reply. Kurama looked down, startled.

"How are you conscious?" he asked.

"Oh, I've taken worse," the Saiyan replied matter-of-factly. "-though I don't remember it hurting like this."

"You have a third of a behemoth's horn wedged into your chest. Did you imagine it would feel pleasant?"

Across the clearing Tari was busying herself by patching Rose's wound. Both wounds, actually-- just like it had done with Trunks, the behemoth's horn had gone clear through the Dragoon, despite her impressively thick armor. Tari had retrieved her medical bag from the jeep and was already bandaging Rose's back when she heard Trunks gasp. Kurama had lifted the Saiyan to his feet, and the movement had him wincing in pain. As the two of them hobbled across the clearing towards the jeep, Trunks suddenly made Kurama stop. He raised his head, looking suddenly worried. Tari gulped-- she'd seen that look on his face once before.

"What is it, Wonderboy?" she asked him, not sure that she wanted to know. His face went totally white, and the spirit fox helped him sit.

"We're in real trouble. How did I not notice...? Whatever this is...it's a whole lot tougher than that behemoth. If it finds us now, we're goners for sure." Kurama straightened.

"Which direction?" The Saiyan pointed north. Without another word the spirit fox strode into the trees.

"Where are you going?" Tari asked loudly.

"I will lead it away and join you later," Kurama called back, and within a moment he was gone. Tari sighed, glad that was taken care of. She finished with Rose and, gathering her medical bag, she went to Trunks.

"We shouldn't have let him go alone," the youth said quietly.

"Nonsense," Tari scolded. "He'll be fine. Now hold still-- I've got to pull out that horn." Trunks yelped when the girl yanked the piece of ivory out of his chest. As it was, his vision went black and he slumped against Tari's shoulder.

….

….

…

"Hey Wonderboy, you all right?" By the time he could hear her she was nearly done with his bandages. He really didn't care about what she was saying--now that he was conscious again, all he could feel was an enormous signal of Dark energy.

There was no time to warn the others. The thing came out of the trees and was upon them much faster--and quieter-- than the behemoth had been. How, Trunks was not sure: this creature was larger, and looked a hundred times more menacing.

This thing was not a natural creature like the behemoth: it resembled a heavily armored soldier mounted on a deformed, four-legged metal beast. The steed alone measured ten feet at the shoulder, and about 25 feet long from its steel-toothed muzzle to the tip of its whip of a tail. The soldier perched on its back was a giant of a man, eight feet tall, if indeed he was human at all. It didn't seem so, because the little bit of flesh visible past his armor was grayish-black. The sword he carried was as long as Trunks was tall, and it held an edge so sharp it put the Saiyan's own to shame. Tari and Trunks stared at the thing in shock and horror, though neither noticed the white thing dangling in the metal beast's jaws.

"So here I find some of the fourteen that so desire to save this wretched world." The rider spoke with a voice that made even the toughest warrior want to clamp his hands over his ears: the voice was hard and cruel, low and dangerous, and its sound was the same as that of oncoming doom. "But you are only four. How disappointing. I am almost as surprised by this as I was when I found you had sent a single warrior to stand against me. I cannot believe you sent only one, let alone one so fragile," they could here the taunting note in the thing's tone. "His efforts were...amusing." It then dawned on them what exactly it was that the monstrous steed held in its mouth.

It was Kurama: wounded, broken, bleeding, and yet somehow still alive. The white of his clothing was tainted in several places by cuts and large splashes of crimson. The rider's steed seemed to grin at the three conscious comrades before giving its iron-shod head a disdainful toss. As it did so it opened its mouth and its prize dropped like an unwanted toy in front of his fellows. Tari rushed to his side. Trunks glared at the beast from his spot on the ground, his fury rippling out from his body in waves.

"That's _it,_" he drug himself to all fours, finally managing shortly after to reach his feet.

"What do you plan on doing?" Tari cried. "There's no way we can stand against that!" Both of the thing's mouths grinned evilly.

"The girl is right," the rider hissed, "You cannot stand against the Ultima Weapon any more than your pitiful friend could." Trunks scowled, pulling the sword from the sheathe on his back. Tari grimaced-- if he was resorting to the sword against so great a foe the rest of his energy had to be gone.

_We're screwed._

There was a resounding yell as the Saiyan charged.

_Yay for fight scenes—they are my passion, can you tell? Yayness. Thanks again to Aeoni-chan b/c I love her for reviewing always. --glomps-- Please R & R—this is one of my favorite parts!_

_-K-_


	11. Chap 11: Justice of Repercussions

**Aeonian Dreams:** Again to my favorite fangirl and loyal reviewer….and now a fave author! --uber glomps-- Another chappie! Yayness!

**The Potty Monster**: Thanks SO MUCH for reviewing…and you have exquisite taste, my friend! I'm so glad we have more crazy loyal fangirls on board! Woohoo! I'll try to keep it interesting for you. :-)

**All-High King Xalo:** thanks to Mike for finally reading one of my fics…and thanks for vowing not to twist any more of my stories!

**Erich—**yay, a college buddy read my fics! Woo!

Thanks to everyone who R&Red! Plz do it if you're reading, and thanks!

-K-

**Chap 11**

As he and his party rode, Aragorn noticed a buzzing in the pocket of his jacket and, drawing out the small glass orb Kieci had given him, he opened the channel magic connection.

"Good day," the Dragon said politely. "How goes it, son of Arathorn?"

"Not unwell, but we are weary," he replied. "Something prowled the edges of our camp, thus the night was a fitful one."

"Unfortunate, but not unexpected," Kieci told him. "I have some things to relay to you." She explained the situation with the Spheres. Aragorn pulled his mount to a halt and held the orb in the middle of their group so that all could hear. "That is all that I know thus far. Be very careful, for your own sakes. I am unsure about how reliable the Industry's information is, so don't take any unnecessary risks. Gods bless," with that, the glass orb went blank. Aragorn glanced around his circle: Auron, Yuna and Leon all looked as uneasy as he himself felt.

The next call Kieci made was to Albert and his companions. To the mage's unease, though, the sphere vibrated and buzzed for several long moments before it was picked up. When the orb lit it was Aerith's face she saw and not the king's.

"Aerith? Why didn't Albert answer?" Kieci was more than aware that the other girl looked drawn and tired. Dark circles lined her eyes, though her smile was honest enough.

"Sorry. Albert's still unconscious and I myself was dozing. We had a rough night."

"Oh gods. What happened? Is everyone all right?"

"We're okay. Cloud's got two broken ribs and Albert overtaxed himself, but other than that and Legolas's dizzy spells we're passable," the girl gulped hard, remembering the incident she had to recap. "We were attacked by two creatures. Half human, half serpent. They were horrible. One of them nearly strangled Cloud."

"Half human...!" Kieci acted shocked and appalled all at once. "I can't believe you were attacked by a bi-specie. I thought they only hunted by the mountains...regardless, at least you're all still alive. I'm sorry I didn't warn you or---"

"Even the wise cannot see all ends," Aerith quoted. "Don't worry about it. We'll be laid up here for a day or so, at least until I can learn the spell to piece Cloud's ribs back together. He can't ride in that much pain."

"Undoubtedly. Please try to be careful while you're stationary. Also, I have news." Again she went through the process of explaining the current situation with the Weapons. When she was done, Aerith looked even paler than she had before.

"That's disturbing. I'll warn Legolas, and the others as soon as they wake up. Thank you for the info." Aerith let the orb go blank and returned to her nap.

On the other end, Kieci sighed heavily. One of the groups had already suffered grave injury. That, in turn, put them in greater peril. The thought of Aerith's group getting ambushed by a Weapon in their present state made her wince. _I have _got _to stop worrying so much,_ she scolded herself mentally. _They aren't children. In all truth, they stand a better chance at their tasks than I do. They have members whose ages surpass mine, not to mention that their combined experience in battle would greatly help them as well. I should just..._ She cut off as a buzzing sound alerted her to an incoming call through her channel magic orb. Opening the connection, Kieci was displeased to see Tari's face on the other end.

"Called to gloat?" the Dragon asked, though even as she did she noticed the younger girl's rapid breathing. Something was wrong .

"No...Kieci, please listen. I haven't much time until he senses the magic I'm using."

"Who's 'he'?"

"Just listen. Kieci, we were attacked." _Oh gods, not again._ "Somehow a behemoth got at us, first thing this afternoon. It wounded two of mine. Rose overstepped her limits and hasn't woken since. Trunks, though...anyway, the Weapon, it--"

"Slow down. What Weapon? Which one? Where--"

"There isn't time!" Tari sounded desperate. "It wasn't Alpha...the Industry was wrong. It was Ultima..." _Gods, someone's dead._

_Cliffhanger…yay! Please R&R! More soon! -K-_


	12. Chap 12: No Justice, Little Pity

_Hello everyone! It's a shorty, but thanks again to all my reviewers! Please R&R, and I'll post again REAL soon!_

Aeonian Dreams—Not odd, Aeoni-chan, never odd! (just VERY dedicated, and I worships you for it!) This is a little cliffie, too, so I'll post again quick! Sry luv!

All-High King Xalo—Thanks for reading Mike, and thanks for vowing not to mock me anymore! Lol, takes an example to prove it sometimes. See you after break!

The Potty Monster—Still, SUCH good taste my friend. Update for you, woo hoo!

**Chap 12**

_Gods, someone's dead._ This was the first thought that crossed Kieci's mind as she listened to Tari's flood of talk. "Kurama tried to lead it away from us so that Rose would...but it didn't work and it ripped him to shreds." She instantly rethought her choice of words. "Not...not literally, but he's bad. I haven't seen him move yet. Anyway, Trunks tried to fend it off and...oh God, Kieci..." the girl's voice broke, "I don't even know if he's still alive. I don't know how he could be...Ultima completely manhandled him...there was so much blood..." The Dragon couldn't help the angry statement that escaped her.

"Why didn't you help him, Tari? Why didn't you---"

"I tried!" Tears rolled down her cheeks. "God, Kieci...I tried. I had no chance against that thing. I charged it once and it broke my arm." The mage winced. "But I think we're at the Wake now, somewhere in the dungeon...but, oh, I talked too long. Kieci, the wizard..."

"The _what_!"

"The greater Sphere, it...he's using your friend, Kieci, that's how the three lesser...but we can't let him keep going. If we let him use the Chaos--" there was a great clanging, as though somewhere on Tari's end a large door had been opened. "Kieci, you have to stop the wizard before---" there was a brilliant flash of black light and the channel magic connection went dead. The Dragon dropped the orb and prayed that Tari hadn't gone with it.

_To be continued..._

_More REAL soon….promise!_

_-K-_


	13. Chap 13: Trust Untrusting

"_Trust between strangers can be strong at times, and at other times not quite strong enough..."_

_Please R&R!_

**Chap 13**

Aragorn's team had progressed steadily all day long, though by early evening the four of them were growing tired. Worse yet, the sky was clouding over and the occasional peal of thunder warned of an oncoming storm. Despite all this, Aragorn suggested that they keep riding.

"The forest grows thin-- there may be a town nearby." And so the four rode on, even after the large, cold drops of rain began to pelt them through the dense canopy of the trees.

As the rain intensified, the horses' hooves began to pound on open grassland. The forest faded through the rain behind them as, sure enough, a walled town came into view in front. The name "Oyu" was carved into the stone in large, bold letters.

"It looks more like a fortress than a village," Leon commented. The horses halted in front of thick wooden gate that was set in the stone wall. The ancient wood was scarred by what looked like fresh, deep cuts.

"They need the protection," Auron said. "Consider what we heard in the shadows last night. I don't think you'd want whatever it was directly outside your bedroom window." Aragorn, huddled beneath his cloak as the rain intensified, knocked loudly on the door. The four dismounted and waited several long, cold minutes before a see-slot slid open and a pair of angry tawny eyes peered out at them.

"What do you want?" Surprisingly, the gatekeeper's voice was female.

"We are little more then wayfarers," Aragorn explained. "We seek nothing more than a roof and a fire for the night." As though to push his cause a streak of jagged lightning spilt the darkening sky.

"What makes you think we have them to offer?" The woman asked crossly, eyeing them with obvious suspicion. "Though you claim to be wanderers, you have an ill-favored look. What kind of wayfarers dare this dangerous land at dusk?"

"What kind of town lets a woman run their defense?" Leon shot back coolly. The gatekeeper's eyes narrowed angrily but before she could speak Yuna interjected.

"Forgive us. The travel has not been easy, and we all stand here getting soaked. My comrade is not in the best of moods, with just reason. As we asked before, doesn't your inn have an open room?" There was silence from beyond the slot, then:

"Fine." The opening snapped closed and the four heard bolts being slid loose. A moment later and the huge gate swung open a crack. The guard was awaiting them with a spear in her hand. Cloaked and dripping, she still did not look pleased. "I will lead you to the inn. It is time for my relief anyway, and I care not to let you wander through our streets after dark." Motioning, she started up the cobblestone street. One by one the four followed her. Leon and Yuna, leading their mounts Lionheart and Nirvana, brought up the rear of the line.

"That was quite rude, what you said to the gatekeeper," Yuna scolded quietly. Leon, with half a glance at her, replied:

"It got her mind off of her mistrust long enough to let us in, though, didn't it."

"Do you always do that?" Yuna asked as the relief guard swung the gate shut behind them.

"Do what?"

"Drive people away with your words." He pondered that for a moment but when he replied his answer avoided her question.

"It keeps people from meddling."

The female gatekeeper led them on for a while longer before she stopped in front of an old brick building. A hanging sign bearing the insignia of mug and the words 'Marauder's Den' swung wildly in the wind. She loosed a high-pitched whistle; from the side alley two young boys, neither clothed against the pelting rain, rushed to her side.

"Grab your saddlebags. The stable boys will tend your horses for you." The four did as they were told, following the woman through the dilapidated back door of the inn.

Despite it's somewhat surly outward appearance, the Marauder's Den was not in too horrible a condition on the inside. Though it was packed and reeked of smoke and alcohol, the common room was warm and a welcome change from the rain outside. A few of the townsmen that sat drinking cast a sidelong glance at the group of newcomers, though none looked for very long, except at Yuna. The girl felt their eyes upon her and felt her cheeks get hot.

"Would any of you like to join me in a drink?" The guard woman asked as they hung their sopping cloaks to dry. Her mood had improved considerably since getting out of the wet. Smiling at them, she threw her thick auburn curls back away from her nicely shaped face.

"I don't drink." Leon said simply, and turned away. Yuna thanked her but declined as well. Aragorn glanced at Auron, who nodded. The two of them followed the guard back towards the bar.

"I apologize for giving you a hard time at the gate," Scout--the guard--told the four. "Earlier today a group of travelers your size tried to storm the gate." Aragorn, who'd been staring at his tankard, looked up sharply. "I'd have thought it impossible, before today, but those four..." her eyes clouded, "...they were different. All of them had swords and, you know what?" She looked at Leon; "One of them had one just like yours. Come to think he had a scar just like that, too. But he was taller, and his hair was reddish blonde." Leon exchanged startled glances with Auron. Yuna, however, locked her gaze on the dirty hardwood floor beneath her feet.

_The first of the signs,_ she realized, and grimaced. _The prophecy is beginning._

"As for the other three," Scout continued, "two of them had silver hair, one long, one short. Nasty eyes on both of them. The last, though," she paused, remembering, "-he didn't fit."

"What do you mean?" Auron asked. The four were more than intrigued by this point.

"He was a young kid. No older than those two," she pointed at Yuna and Leon. "He was blonde, kind of detached, and had blue eyes. Not the type you'd think to see with a group of thugs like that." Auron saw Yuna flinch at the familiar description. "But anyway, the scarred one demanded that I open the gate and hand over the Dragon. When I told him I didn't know what the Hell he was talking about he started hacking away at the wood. What spooks me the most is that he nearly got his blade all the way through before the man with the long silver hair said 'She's not here,' and just like that they walk off into the woods. It was crazy." Scout sighed and took a long drink from her tankard, examining the four over its rim.

"This may change things," Aragorn suggested quietly; "-though the path we should take is unclear to me."

"I don't think it's that difficult. All we have to do is follow their tracks and we'll find the Weapon," Leon said simply, apparently over his shock.

"What makes you think that's going to work?" Auron asked him, scrutinizing.

"Call it a hunch," the youth replied, "-but I think our witch agrees with me. Don't you, Yuna?" The girl met his gaze. The look that marked her as troubled showed in her face and played in her mismatched eyes. Nevertheless, she offered a small, forced smile and a nod.

"It sounds like as good a plan as any. We shall follow them, after we rest, of course."

"You guys are insane," Scout objected. "Why would you want to put yourself in harm's way if you don't need to? It's obvious that those guys are in league with the Dark, and with all those other nasty creatures running around..." At that instant a group of men and a young boy came storming into the tavern, all of them panting heavily. Scout leapt from her seat.

"What's the meaning of this? What's happened?"

"Begging your pardon, milady," the little boy began, "-but we need your help. Galen left the gate unguarded and--"

"--What he means, my lady is that I was drawn away for a moment and the girl made it outside the wall," a tall, lanky youth cut in. Auron recognized him as the relief that'd taken over for Scout. "She was gone before I had any time to react. I didn't think--"

"You're right," Scout cut in coldly, "-you didn't. Has someone saddled my horse?" Galen nodded.

"Yes, but, my lady, someone saw those four men from earlier prowling around outside the wall. It's not safe for you to--" Scout shoved him out of her way, making for the door.

"Shut the Hell up. I'm going to go clean up your mess for you;" she looked at the four, "You coming?" Aragorn glanced at his fellows. Cutting the crowd, they grabbed their cloaks as they passed them and followed the woman out.

The rain had abated, the dreary sky giving way to an open, eerie twilight. Yuna jogged to catch up with Scout, who was on a b-line with the stables.

"Scout, why did they merely say 'the girl?' How do you know which child it was?" The mage asked. As the older woman pulled the stable door open she gave Yuna a grim smile.

"There is only one female child in the entire town. Hence when someone says 'the girl' they literally mean _the_ girl."

Five minutes later the horses were saddled; the five were mounted and were galloping out the town gates. The large wooden slab--on Scout's order--swung shut behind them. From there it became obvious that the little girl was nowhere out in the open; the forest, the only other option, stood before them like a whole separate world.

"If we split up we'll find her faster, though that increases our risk of being caught alone by those creeps from before." Scout's mount, a palomino charger, shifted anxiously beneath his mistress's weight as she spoke.

"We shall have to risk it," Aragorn said, though he sounded unsure. "We cannot leave the child to roam with the Dark so near." Reaching into his saddlebag, the Ranger drew out the Channel magic orb and handed it to Yuna. Looking her straight in the eyes he muttered "Just in case." Yuna reined Nirvana sharply to the left as her comrades galloped in off in four separate directions. Fighting a sudden feeling of unease, she followed suit and plunged into the woods.

The light of the full moon speckled the forest floor through slots in the trees, giving the night the appearance of quiet peacefulness. _Deceivingly peaceful,_ the mage thought, and shuddered. Just as the thought passed, a shrill scream rang through the air. _A child's scream_ and the source was close. Vaulting clear of her mare, Yuna charged into the underbrush, swinging her staff to clear a path. She raced blindly ahead, running until the brush thinned and she heard more screams. Pressing herself against a tree, she leaned to the side and looking into the lighted open.

A girl of about six with Scout's own auburn curls was being lifted high into the air in the hands on a handsome young man with a sword in his belt; her screams were actually of pleasure as she stretched her hands towards the sky. The man holding her was all too familiar: his blonde hair, light blue eyes, and his glittering sapphire blade. Yuna lost herself for an instant and nearly called out to him-- only the entrance of Sephiroth and the other two Dark incarnations allowed her to catch her tongue in time. Sinking back against her tree, Yuna watched as the girl continued to giggle in Tidus's arms.

"Will you stop already?" The redheaded man demanded after a moment. The man with the short silver hair, black tunic and crimson eyes nodded agreement.

"The child's noises are distracting."

"So is your presence," a new voice added. Yuna looked on in fascination as Leon stepped into the clearing; his gunblade propped on his right shoulder. In a breath Masamune, a flaming sword and another gunblade circled him. To Yuna's surprise, though, Leon kept his own blade on his shoulder and didn't move.

"You're more stupid than I could have imagined, even coming from your own memories," the one in the white trench coat jeered. "You can't even stand against me. Charging in here alone--dumb bastard. How do you plan on standing against the four of us?"

"Seifer," Leon looked completely unfazed. "I don't. I did not come here to fight you."

"Obviously," the fire-swordsman said. "You came here to die." He raised his blade to strike; so did Seifer.

"Hold," Sephiroth spoke, lowering Masamune. "He's here." On the other side of the clearing a black vortex appeared, waxing and waning in the light as it steadily grew larger. The girl, still by Tidus, began to whimper in earnest. The black magic--Yuna recognized it as the Gateway spell she'd seen in her spell book-- rippled and glowed; a moment later a man stepped through the vortex as it vanished behind him. Yuna pressed herself more firmly against her tree.

He was clothed in a flowing black robe that brushed the ground, churning the leaves beneath his feet. His eyes and slick hair were the color of pitch, his jaw heavy, and his face cold. Short in stature, the top of his dark head barely reached Sephiroth's shoulder. Despite this the Dark incarnations all inclined their heads and took a step back from him, as though in tribute. The man paid them no heed. Instead he stepped towards Leon, who still remained unmoving, and raised his right hand. As though he'd been shot, Leon's body went rigid. The man lowered his hand, palm down, and Leon dropped to his knees as his gunblade was torn from his grasp. The blade flew backwards and embedded itself in a tree as the kneeling youth's arms folded themselves behind his back.

"What do we have here?" the dark-clothed man asked. Reaching out a pale, claw-like hand, he removed the griffin-head pendant and chain from around Leon's throat. "Interesting. One of the Dragon's tagalongs, perhaps. How pathetic."

"Who are you?" Yuna heard her companion ask-- his voice sounded tight. Though he showed signs of trying, he did not--or could not-- rise.

"I am the wizard." Seeing Leon's puzzled look the man smiled. "Not heard of me? Unfortunate. You shall, I don't doubt. Actually, I'd wager that even the Dragon knows me not," the smile on his face spread, though it was by no means friendly. "Perhaps. But she will. Though there are more pressing issues, like perhaps why you charged in here knowing you could not fight my Dark warriors."

His_ Dark warriors?_ Yuna mused. _What is going on...?_

"I don't want to be apart of the Dragon's team anymore," Leon muttered, turning his blue-gray eyes on the ground. "It's obvious that we stand no chance against the Dark army. I will not die for the sake of this planet, not when it cares nothing for me."

"Liar," the Dark Seifer snarled from his place in the loose circle surrounding the conversing two. "He would not turn on them so easily."

"Watch me," Leon snapped. "I've been thinking: if they all die the engineers at the Industry will have no choice but to send me home. I will fight alongside you for that reason. I saw the kind of enemy we face that first night, and I'm tired of the losing side." Seifer continued to mutter angrily to himself but the wizard's face took on an inquisitive look. Yuna couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Interesting." The wizard raised his hand and Leon was pulled to his feet like a puppet on invisible strings. "I find myself pressed as to your conviction, though you make a decent argument. Perhaps. I can see the temptation. How am I to know if you are truthful?" Leon matched his stare, his eyes equally cold.

"You take my word for it." At that the wizard laughed--a high, mirthless sound that vibrated in the heavy air. The little girl at Tidus's feet let out a startled cry and began to weep into her small hands. The Dark youth did nothing to comfort her.

"That's humorous. Perhaps you are being honest. Perhaps. But by no means do I fully believe you." Black energy gathered around the wizard's hand as his mouth moved soundlessly. Dark strands of energy flowed from his fingers, wavered through the air and twined themselves around Leon, binding his arms behind his back. "We shall see."

Yuna leaned back against her tree, her stomach a knot of anger and disbelief. _The weak link._ The phrase repeated itself over and over again in her head. Realizing for the first time that she was in serious danger, she clutched her staff and began to ease herself silently away.

Then her pocket began to buzz.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

_Ooh, not good. Well, that's what happens. Eep! Please R&R, more soon (I hope!)_

_-K-_


	14. Chap 14: Untrusting Fallout

**Chap. 14**

The Channel magic sphere began to ring, its sound startlingly loud in the sudden silence. The wizard snapped to attention, as did Leon and the Dark men. The four of them started forward as Yuna whispered the name and looked into the sphere. Kieci's face was there, and she looked tense. The girl paid it no heed.

"Call back later!" she whispered harshly and the orb went black. She stuffed it back into her pocket just as the Dark Tidus reached out, grabbed her arm and drug her into the clearing. The wizard watched her with his grin, motioning for the Dark incarnations to step away.

"What is this, little deer?" he questioned, walking to her. Yuna readied her staff and prayed her fear didn't show in her face. "Wandered into the wolves' lair, have we? Fortunate, perhaps. Now I have a messenger to take my warning to the Dragon. Tell her..." his eyes glittered maliciously, "...tell her that the Dark is rising, with Chaos at its side. She will understand. Perhaps." Yuna took half a step back, thankful for the time his talking had bought her. She was ready now, the spell fast in her mind. She began to mouth it, silent, her lips hardly moving in their rapidity. The wizard saw before she was halfway done; her Blizzard spell ricocheted off of his Barrier and hit her full force, blasting her against a tree. Dazed, she crumpled to its base. "Too slow, little deer. Someday you will get faster, although you'll probably be dead by then. Perhaps." The black vortex reappeared, larger this time. "Farewell. Don't forget to pass on my message. Come now," he motioned to the Dark men and Leon, whose eyes did not linger for more than a second on Yuna.

"Why?" the mage demanded of his receding back.

"Because you will fail." He walked into the vortex. Seifer pulled Leon's gunblade free of the tree and followed the others as they all passed through the hole and disappeared. Tidus was the last to leave. Hesitating, he walked over to where Yuna half-laid against the tree. Kneeling, he grabbed her chin in his hands.

"You could blow me to pieces with that staff," he told her, "-and destroy one enemy, yet you don't." His gaze ensnared hers. "Hard to hate me, isn't it? You know I'm not him. You know I would kill you in an instant, without any remorse and yet you don't act. All simply because I look and sound as he does. You are truly weak. It is an advantage I will not forget." He dropped something at her feet and walked through the vortex and it vanished. Her head still spinning, Yuna looked down--Leon's pendant lay on the ground. Lifting it with quivering fingers she hung it around her neck and concealed it beneath her tunic.

"Lady?" The little girl, her eyes red and swollen, approached Yuna. "Are you okay?" The mage plastered on a smile for the child and nodded.

"Yes. I just fell."

"Nuh-uh," she objected, "The bad man pushed you, with his magic. I watched him. He was scary." Yuna pushed herself up, using the tree for support.

"You're right. I--" she cut off when the sound of hoof beats thundered nearby. A moment later and Scout, Aragorn and Auron rode into the clearing. The little girl immediately let out a gleeful cry.

"Sissy!" Scout swung from the saddle, landing and kneeling in time to receive the girl's hug.

"Molly, I'm so glad you're here," she pulled back and examined the girl's face. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Molly shook her auburn head. Scout looked at Yuna. "Where are the Dark men?"

"Gone. Leon too." When Aragorn and Auron looked at her, confused, she hung her head. "He's converted, taken new allies. He's no longer on our side. He left with the Dark and the wizard."

"The what?" Auron questioned. Before she could answer the Channel magic orb began to vibrate again.

"What happened?" Kieci's annoyed voice asked from Yuna's palm. "You cut me short before, and this is urgent."

"So was my situation," Yuna replied, as calmly as she could. It was hard to be civil. "Your call gave away me away to Sephiroth and his fellows. The wizard as well."

"The...! Oh gods, Yuna, I'm so sorry. Are you--did--I--is everyone all right? I didn't know--"

"No apologies necessary. We're all okay. Leon..." she choked, cleared her throat and pressed on. "--Leon has switched sides. He is no longer with us--he went with the wizard."

"I...," Kieci looked angry, "Thanks for breaking it to me gently. A deserter? That's...that's one thing I hadn't planed on. Leon..." she paused. "I can't believe it," her eyes turned hard, "But that's not why I called you. We have a problem...another problem."

"What is it now?" Auron asked. Scout lifted Molly in her arms and joined the semicircle around the Channel magic orb.

"A third group was brought in yesterday. Without my knowledge, I can assure you. Needless to say, a Technician led them into battle today."

"I was led to believe that the Dark's restrictions would prevent such an act," Aragorn said.

"It does. They were beaten horribly. One or more of them may already be dead, and they're prisoners in the castle at Death's Wake." Yuna flinched-- the mage had told them rumors about the castle.

"That's horrible."

"Not a nice place," Scout murmured in agreement. "There's a Dark aura surrounding it for miles all around. It's almost as bad as the Fortress up north."

"Yes, well, I don't know what to do. The other group was assailed last night as well."

"Are they still..?"

"Yes. Not without injuries, mind you. I think Aerith is the only one still in one piece. They'll be fine, but that leaves us lacking in the ally department. With the Weapons still running around and the Dark's power inexplicably growing, I am lost as to our next move."

"That's not all," Yuna said sadly, "The wizard--I assume you've heard of him from the others?--told me...he said to tell you that the Dark grows with Chaos at its side."

"I'd assumed as much," the Dragon whispered. "This wizard...who or whatever he is...he's learned to control it somehow, to send it out in tendrils. What this means, what it will do, I don't know. Nor do I understand how he can do magic at all. But all this is beside the point. My biggest concern right now is freeing that imbecile Tari and the warriors she drug down with her. If there's anything left." Her face vanished from the sphere momentarily. "Sorry, I must go. Something...urgent just came up. Please be careful and _stay where you are._ Chances are you'll be safe in Oyu." Yuna raised an eyebrow.

"How did you know we were in--"

"--I have sources. Gods all bless." The orb went black.

_R&R PLEASE! Thanks to everyone who did!_

_-K-_


	15. Chap 15: The Fallout Within

**Chap. 15**

_Ooh, my head._ Tari woke slowly, flat on her stomach on a cold stone floor. She tried to push herself up but winced in pain and let herself drop back the few inches to the floor. Upon inspection, she found her left wrist wrapped in white bandages and a splint of wood holding it stationary. The Technician levered herself up with her right arm, deciding by the stiffness of her body that she had to have been lying there quite some time.

"It's about time you woke up," a quiet voice prodded. Tari looked up: through the heavy steel bars all around her, she saw Rose sitting against a wall in an adjacent cell. The woman's gorgeous dark armor was gone, replaced by a fawn brown tunic and white linen bandages. In the absence of her velvet and the color in her cheeks, her beauty was diminished considerably. "You got lucky when you used that magic orb." Even her voice was toned down, her fire gone. "I was awake enough to see the wizard coming, and had time to use my Dragoon spirit to catch his attention. Your orb is still safe, though he spelled our cells against chanted magic and my pendant against activating." She tapped the opal hung around her throat. "This is useless in here...but we may need that call."

"Rose..." Tari sat up, her face alight with guilt. "I'm sorry. I led us right into a trap and...wait, what about Kurama? And Trunks?" The raven-haired woman jerked her head to indicate a cell on the other side of the narrow hallway where the spirit fox, bandaged and clothed in a shirt and pants of gray, lay sprawled on the floor.

"The boy, I don't know. I do know that the wizard thought it was funny your people brought him," she looked Tari straight in the eye, "-said it was useless to bring a child, regardless of his swordsmanship." The younger woman caught on.

"He has no idea about his energy." That was a potential asset, assuming that Trunks wasn't already...

A door creaked open and heavy footfalls echoed down the hall. Rose and Tari fell silent, watching. Two ugly creatures, man-sized and burly in stature, drug a limp form between them as they plodded towards the women's cells. The things were foul creations, not by any means natural, and resembled black-skinned, deformed men. Their glowing eyes and fanged mouths gave them an ominous, evil appearance. Tari realized with a start that the form being dragged between them was Trunks's. The creatures proceeded to the cell opposite her own and adjacent to Kurama's, depositing their luggage on the floor before slamming the barred door closed.

"That will be all," a female voice called from down the isle. "You may return the lab and await me there." The two creatures stomped dumbly away as a thin woman dressed in a white robe came walking down the hall. She stopped in front of Tari and Rose's cells. "Orcs," she explained, reading their confusion. "Created from a splice of the Dark and Chaotic energies. They're actually alive, though those two lack the ferocity of the other hundred. Hence why they are my carriers."

"Who exactly are you?" Tari demanded, though her voice wavered and she lost the desired angry effect.

"The one who patched you all up, and saved the boy's life." The woman was gaunt of frame and face, her reddish-brown hair cut short and lank on her forehead. "I serve the Dark wizard. Before you snap at me," she raised a hand against Tari's protests, "-I do this not by choice. My village was destroyed by the Dark many, many months ago and I myself spared because of my considerable knowledge of the White magic arts. I am here to piece the wizard's prisoners back together until his use for them has subsided."

"Bitch," Rose snapped. "We'd be better off dead." She sighed, looking grim.

"That may be true, in certain cases. Yours may not be as such, though. I know the wizard needed human energy for the orcs' creation but he may not need you now, what with that other youth here. Regardless," she clapped her hands together, letting the mood pass, "for the time being you are all alive and well. Uh," she glanced behind himself at Kurama and Trunks's prone forms and corrected her statement, "--alive, anyway. Well, my work is done." She offered them a nod of farewell. "Good day, ladies." As simply as that, she was gone.

"Odd," Rose said thoughtfully, after the hall door had slammed shut. "Very, very odd. I don't know what to make of that."

"Me neither," Tari agreed, "-but we have her to thank for the medical care, I suppose. At least we won't bleed to death this way."

"No, we'll probably just get tortured or something else pleasant of the like," the Dragoon replied nastily. "How fortunate for us. Now we wait for the wizard's judgment." Tari shuddered, curling herself into a ball.

_R&R!_

_-K-_


	16. Chap 16: Not Within One's Limits

**Chap. 16**

Aerith poked their small fire with a stick, stifling a huge yawn with the back of her hand. Throwing a pacing Legolas an envious glance over her shoulder, she called:

"Don't you ever get tired?" The elf ceased walking, examining the girl with his light eyes for a long moment. Then he smiled.

"Two of my companions rest--one exhausted, the other bewitched. The third nears sleep, even though on guard duty. If I do not remain awake, who will?" Aerith shook her head in exasperation, tossing a stone at him that the elf easily dodged.

"You remember that, pointy-ears," she retorted, grinning, "-should you ever need saving. Maybe I'll just let you get eaten by a giant bug or something happy like that. Then we'll see who laughs." She'd meant it as a joke, though in light of the snake creatures it wasn't exactly humorous. Legolas let it slide, though, and inclined his head in a mock bow.

"My pardon, sorceress. Far be it for a lowly creature of my place to mock one of your stature." Aerith simply shook her head again, giving him the last laugh. Nearly.

"I might be weak but you're... you're old!" The elf let that one pass, too, and resumed his meditative pacing. Aerith sighed and rose from her seat, brushing the burrs and dust from her breeches and yawning. It was time to check on her patients.

Cloud and Albert were two prone heaps on the edge of the clearing, both of them fast asleep. Albert hadn't moved since his collapse hours before and Aerith figured he wasn't going to be worth much for a while. Cloud was a different story. She'd known he'd insist on keeping his turn at watch, shunning rest regardless of the amount of pain he was in, and that was exactly the opposite of what his body needed. Yes, the Cloud Strife she knew never would've consented to any treatment other than a straight Cure spell. That was why she tricked him.

A small smile returned to Aerith as she remembered the deception. She'd lead on like she was going to use an Internal Scan spell, a variation on the original Scan that would let her know if there was any inside damage other than that to his ribs. That made sense so Cloud allowed her to use it, though when the chant was done it was Sleep--not Scan-- that was cast.

A screech from above pulled Aerith's consciousness away from the memory, alerting her to a presence in the sky.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, merely out habit; when she looked at Legolas the elf raised an eyebrow and, catching a glance of his ears, she couldn't help but giggle briefly. Another inhuman cry split the air and began a chorus of calls. "It sounds like birds."

"Large birds," Legolas amended. The random screeches suddenly united into one huge war cry. The two companions heard the sounds of a battle begin a moment later a ways down the trail. The shouts of men and the frightened screaming of horses echoed through the trees. "They are attacking a group of travelers."

"It's barely dawn," Aerith protested, catching the slightest lightening of the sky. "Why would they be out this early? But, I guess it doesn't matter-- whoever they are, they need our help." Legolas was already stringing his bow and untying his white mount Lorien from the string.

"It is best you stay with them," he motioned to Cloud and Albert, "in case anything happens."

"They'll be fine," Aerith said. "I'll put a Protect spell around the camp. Kieci was right-- the Defensive spells are very easy to learn. That way I can come with you.," looking at the elf, though, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Or is that not why you want me to stay? You think I'll get in your way, don't you?" His expression told her she was correct. "Ooh, that's it. I'm coming. What do you say to _that,_ master elf?" Legolas smiled and replied as he would've to a certain short companion of his, back home.

"Very well---if you think you can keep up." Aerith grabbed her staff and hastily started saddling Flower, giving Legolas yet another look. Within another few moments they were both ready and Aerith, stopping short as she trotted Flower out of the clearing, cast a Protect spell that surrounded the entire camp and the other two horses. With a short pang of pride at how fast and easily the spell had come she nudged her mare.

Their horses' hooves thundered on the dry earth as Legolas, being the faster rider, pulled ahead of Aerith. As they rounded a bend in the trail Aerith saw the battle: men dressed in uniforms of maroon and silver, some of them mounted, fought fiercely against large, crimson winged creatures that more closely resembled dragons than birds.

_Wyverns,_ the girl realized, and pulled her staff from its hanging place beside her leg. Legolas had already shot one of the creatures down by the time the two of them reached the fray. Aerith quickly began muttering the chant for a Fire spell, realized she'd forgotten the last line and adlibbed it instead. A huge fireball shot from the top of the staff and engulfed two of the wyverns in a blaze of sparks. Flower whinnied and reared nervously as her mistress dismounted, staring at the smoke. "Fira," she mumbled out loud. "Interesting." She shooed Flower away as an enemy dove at her, spiraling, razor-sharp beak ready to impale. Her lips moving, Aerith rolled to the side in an exaggerated sweep that would've made Cloud proud, drawing her staff with her in an ever-ready position.. Regaining her feet as she finished her rotation, she loosed the Bolt and struck the wyvern from its course.

Legolas aimed and fired as quickly as an arrow was fit in his bow. Flinching, the elf dodged from his saddle as a triad of the wyverns came down upon him in a spearhead formation. Lorien expertly sidestepped, plunging away to join Flower on the safe outskirts of the fight. Legolas drew his ivory-handled long knives, spinning in a pivot and cleaving the two outside wyverns' heads clean off, ducking beneath the outstretched claws of the third. The center creature, beady eyes glaring, shot past the elf too quickly and managed to catch him on the side of the face with a talon. Legolas leapt after it, one knife raised, and drove the blade clean through the thing's neck. He disengaged his left-handed blade and spun free, charging another enemy as the men, all around and yet separate from him, clung to their weapons and swatted the wyverns away.

A high screech from above drew Aerith's eyes upward for a split-second. It was not the cry of a wyvern; instead, she saw an enormous gold-plumed eagle, larger than any she'd ever seen, plunge down upon a wyvern. The things was torn to shreds by the eagle's dagger claws. The girl returned her attention downward, to the last of the creatures and the fight. She saw a soldier spear one on a pike; she flamed another with a Fire spell.

Before she even realized it, the battle was over. Every wyvern lay slain, save the two that had tried to flee. These found themselves maimed by the waiting eagle. Legolas lowered his arms, his long knives gleaming crimson. Aerith herself let out a relieved sigh, though that changed quickly when she realized the soldiers, though across the clearing, were rapidly moving towards her and her companion.

"What are they doing?" she asked, all too aware that they were waving their weapons. One even went so far as to shout, "You there, freeze!" Legolas scowled, readying himself. Aerith summoned up another Protect spell, holding it back until she was positive she needed it.

Legolas sensed him coming.

A silent shadow, no creation of the Dark, fast as a blink, came quickly through the trees, cutting a wide semicircle from around the back of the men in uniform. The warriors froze as the figure-- one as lean as Legolas himself-- leapt from the brush, two gleaming twin scimitars drawn. Legolas, ready for the assault, caught and held his assailant's blades with his own.

Eyes as bright a violet as his own were blue caught the elf's gaze; skin a stark shade of bluish-ebony set off a violent contrast to a shoulder-length crown of fair white hair. The two held, stationary and scrutinizing, for one eternal moment. Then the true fight began.

The dark man jumped back as Legolas did, rolling his scimitars with his wrists. Legolas drove forward, slicing in cleanly with a right-left-right side-cut that was too rapid for any of the spectators to follow. His target parried, too easily, and returned the combo in mirror quality, adding a sweeping butterfly cut that nearly caught Legolas's side. Instead, it tangled his right-handed blade in both of his opponent's, leaving the man open for a hit. Legolas brought up the pommel of his other knife, missing his adversary as the man dodged, disengaging his blades and leaping away much faster than the elf had anticipated. Neither was winded yet; both circled, sizing the other, absently rolling their blades.

The two were nearly even, both possessing a quality of speed and fluent motion unlike anything Aerith had ever seen.

A tingling reminded her that she was still holding in her Protect spell; at that same second a ringing cry from above re-alerted her to the massive eagle's presence. To her shock, the animal was descending, claws open, directly at her. Shaking away a moment of hesitation she brought up the spell and shaped it like a tall column. This she forced upward with a jab of her staff: the pillar of solid crystalline energy rocketed skyward, slamming full force into the golden eagle and sending it spiraling downward, dazed, into the nearby trees.

The clashing of blade-on-blade brought her back to the fight. Legolas charged, striking so rapidly that in his succession of blows the dark man was forced to back up, retreating slightly towards the soldiers. Still the elf drove forward, managing to get the man to lose his rhythm for a split instant. In that second Legolas executed a combo so beautiful and deadly it made Aerith's breath flee her chest. The ivory knives cut sliver arcs through the air, tracing out then up, rolling at the elf's wrists and driving down, meeting like the closing sides of a predator's jaws, aiming for his opponent's exposed chest.

Metal rang again as the dark man--if indeed he was a man at all-- brought up his own bladed 'X', shielding himself and scoring a sharp kick to Legolas's gut. The kick made him stumble and the tables rotated; now the dark-skinned attacker drove Legolas back as the four blades between them began to twirl so quickly it was impossible to tell who was striking whom. A sleeve was cut here, an exposed area of flesh clipped there, a single strand of fair hair that'd been caught in the crossfire dropped to the ground beneath their weightless feet, a sign of one close call after another. Legolas finally jumped back, feinted left and pulled forth his right-handed weapon in a complex that made the air whistle; the ebony skinned stranger caught his footing, slid his left foot back for leverage and lunged forth at the same instant.

There was one final ring of metal as both fighters' left weapons met in a block over the other's chest. In that same motion each right-handed blade whipped forward to hover a hair's breadth from the other's throat. The dance, beautiful in its technique, caught its finale in a stalemate.

The two held their bodies in perfect posture, their arms unmoving, blades still. Aerith could see their muscles tensed-- it was the only way she could tell that they weren't simply standing there. _How long can they hold like that?_ she wondered. _Surely one of them has to move..._ The thought had no sooner crossed her mind when a growl, a dual feral roar, rose up directly on her right and left, startling her into a crouch and the beginnings of a spell. The same sound drew Legolas's eyes over his shoulder for a split-second, the one instant that his opponent needed. Just as the elf's gaze came back onto his dark-skinned adversary he found the man already in motion, scimitars flashing.

Aerith's Stop almost came too late; she threw her arms out from her sides, casting the spell out like two streams of netting. By the time she'd gotten the last of the words out the chant the invisible force rushed forward, snaring and freezing the animals in mid-leap. It came not a moment too soon: two enormous black panthers, one with wickedly green eyes, the other oddly with dark brown ones, hovered two feet from her on either side, lips curled back in matching halted snarls. Struggling against a sudden, fierce weariness that clouded her vision, Aerith began to pull up the spell for Combustion.

"I would not advise that." The girl glanced up sharply, nearly losing her grip on the Stop spell. The ebony skinned stranger stood poised in the 'kill' position, his scimitars crossed like a pair of scissors over a downed Legolas's throat. The elf was panting, blood running down his cheek, his knives lying just out of his reach. "Let them go." Aerith gave him a blank, calculating look and raised her hands above her head, clutched them into fists and dropped her arms back down to her sides; the panthers slammed to earth, snarling angrily. "Guenhwyvar," the man called sternly. The green-eyed panther slunk over to the side of the trail like a scolded puppy. The other cat followed, tail swishing back and forth irritably. The man looked down upon the elf. "Not badly fought, my light skinned brother," he rolled his scimitars up and away from Legolas, taking a step back. Legolas leapt back to his feet and retrieved his knives in the same breath. In the midst of his fluid side step, he wobbled slightly. "It is a mistake I don't think you would've made, if the girl had not been here." Aerith cleared her throat, already mumbling again. In truth she was completely tapped out magically, her knees weak, but the man and his soldiers, who filed behind him, did not need to know that.

"You dismiss me too quickly," she assured him quietly, sweeping her staff as though she were preparing to cast. It was what gamblers liked to call a high-stakes bluff. "You'll see." Her staff nearly slid free of her numb hands; the stranger smiled.

"I am no man, and you are no sorceress," he shot back coolly, "--not anymore. You don't have enough magic to scare a flea from Guenhwyvar's back." _Dead bluff,_ Aerith realized. From the corner of her eye she saw the golden eagle, waddling unsteadily on the ground, enter the clearing and huddle next to the brown-eyed panther. She noticed that he, too, had dark brown eyes.

"Do you wish to test me on that?" That drew a chuckle from him and a surprised glance from Legolas.

"I don't doubt you would manage something. I am impressed, though--" he stopped, acting as though he heard something. Frowning, he turned away and headed into the trees. "Captains, I believe I can leave this to you. Come, Guenhwyvar." As quickly as he had come, the dark figure and his panther vanished back into the trees.

_That was different, _Aerith mused. As her eyes wandered back to the soldiers in front of her, she gasped .

"What devilry is this?" Legolas took a staggered step back, his knuckles as white as his knives' ivory handles. The eagle and remaining panther had moved to the center of the trail, at the head of the group of humans. The two companions watched what looked like the speeded-up growth of tree from seedling to maturity-- the two creatures coiled into themselves and began to grow quickly upward, stopping finally in the form of two very mismatched men that approached them. One was very tall, thin as a rail, with a look of restrained and quiet intelligence. The other had more the look of a warrior: short, stocky, and powerfully built. Both of them were clothed in the same garb as the soldiers; both shared similar short brown hair and brown eyes. The warrior was massaging one of his massive shoulders.

"You can keep your thrice-be-damned power," he growled to his companion. "Give me a sword over your fur and claws any day."

"Mine were feathers, in case you hadn't noticed," the tall one replied dryly. "I was forced to take bird form because you sapped too much of my strength taking Guenhwyvar's shape. Besides, you volunteered."  
"Was volunteered," he corrected. "It was Drizzt's idea. Forget it." He finally turned his attention to Aerith and Legolas. "Sorry about the mix up. We didn't plan on hurting you, you understand. Apprehending, but not hurting." He gave Aerith a rueful look. "That was some Stop spell. I don't believe I've ever seen one used in quite that way."

"She is one of the Fourteen," the tall one said, as though it should have been have obvious. "No Technician mage can give her spells shape," he gave Legolas a quick once-over and added, "and none of our normal warriors can fight like this one does."

"Our normal warriors can't fight like anything," his comrade amended bitterly. He gestured at the men over his shoulder, indicating them to Aerith and Legolas. "That's all that remains of both of our national armies. Some twenty-odd men, left of over two thousand."

"A massive number of casualties," the tall man continued, "For a single battle." Legolas took half a step back in obvious disgust.

"I would hope you were outnumbered."

"No. Only outmatched. A wave of Dark creatures accompanied by wyverns, as well as a massive metal creature that called itself the Ultima Weapon," the warrior now jerked his thumb to indicate the dead wyverns, "and those are the leftovers from the battle two days past. They found our camp and chased us from it, and that's where you two came in."

"Conveniently, I might add. I believe we have you to thank for wrapping it up quickly," he swept his lean body into an elegant bow. "I am Robert Sikorski, First Lieutenant of the Intelligence Division of the Technician Army. My comrade is--"

"Alex Ross," the warrior cut in simply, folding his arms across his chest indifferently.

"--Now Commanding General of the Two Brigade Technician Army."

"A title earned only because every other worthy officer is dead," Alex amended: Robert sighed, nodding forlornly in agreement. The slight air of supremacy he'd been maintaining disintegrated.

"True," he commented. "All too true. You should've been at the post all along... Anyway," he seemed somewhat into the idea of changing the subject, "Are the two of you alone? It seems quite dangerous, even though you are two of the chosen ones."

Aerith started to reply, started to open her mouth and explain that there were others, two back in the clearing, but just as she did the cold that had been plaguing her hands swept up her arms. With an inner gasp, she realized she'd gone too far. "Legolas..?" The elf turned just in time to see her eyes flutter closed and the half-tripping step she took back. His burst of speed was just enough to get his arms around her a breath before she'd have hit the ground. The movement, after pouring all his energy into the spar with the ebony-skinned stranger, made his vision swim uncomfortably. The resulting wave of dizziness made him quite nauseous.

"There are two more with us, back in the clearing," he jerked his head to indicate the direction. "We were assailed last night by giant half-serpents," Alex and Robert shared a startled look, "-and that is how..." the elf's voice faltered; the black waves rolling behind his eyes edged further and further into his field of vision. As he knelt on bended knee, still supporting Aerith, he heard Robert comment: "I believe Drizzt overdid it."

He never remembered hitting the ground.

_I'm finally back! YaY! College and work'll kill ya (or at least your creativity and free time!) I am back, and will try to update everything ASAP! Thanks All!_

_-K-_


	17. Chap 17: Limits of Foresight

**Chapter 17**

Kieci spoke his name into the channel magic org, saying it quietly to avoid being heard by any unwelcome presences. Aragorn's face came into the orb an instant later. Frown lines etched around the Ranger's eyes and mouth, giving him a look more grave than usual.

"Good day," he offered politely, looking like he believed it not at all.

"Like Hell it is," Kieci snapped. "I have yet more good news for you, my friends." She had assumed rightly; the picture in the orb shifted from Aragorn's face to a smaller collage of his, Auron's and Yuna's. Not one of them looked anything better than unhappy. "Glad everyone's present and still breathing."

"What's happened now?" Yuna inquired.

"More than anything else, I wanted to press upon you the urgency to stay put. I don't want the three of you leaving Oyu under any circumstances, understand? None."

"Do not lecture us like scolded children," Auron growled, none too gently. "Whatever it is that's happened, don't take it out on us." The mage sighed.

"Sorry. I'm a little tense--ah, _tenser_ than usual. Our allies are dropping like flies though, Auron, and that's why I'm so concerned about you three."

"What's happened now?" Yuna pressed again.

"Nothing more than aftereffects of my over-enthusiasm. I fear I may have made the same mistake that I so ribbed Tari for. The second group is entirely out of commission, from everything to exhaustion to a serious Sleep spell. As I mentioned, I think I let you all loose too soon. The limitations are looking to be more problematic than I had expected."

"If the others are all out, how do you know all this?" Yuna questioned, suspicious. "You can't have caught up with them yet."

"As I told you before, I have sources. The four of them were found by the remnants of the Two-Brigade Technician Army which, I might add, amounts to about twenty people. Their present Commanders happen to be personal friends of mine, and it just so happened they were in the right place at the right time." Her previous statement had puzzled Aragorn.

"Their Army numbers only twenty?"

"Not originally. It _was _two thousand, give or take a few hundred, but they suffered huge casualties a few days ago. The Dark set up an ambush and they walked right into it. Not the men's fault, mind you-- their late Commander was more bull-headed than me. Anyway, from what I understand, the Special Forces Unit remains intact."

"The what?"

"Oh, let's just call them the band of misfits that might turn the tide a little back in our favor. Ten or so individuals ranging from an accident of nature to a few specially gifted humans. Take Scout, for example. Remember I told you I have sources? She's a telepath, and got a hold of me as soon as you arrived at her gate. I'm the reason you got through at all."

"Well, that's interesting. Anything else you care to tell us?" Auron muttered, and Kieci's face was lit by a half-smile.

"Nope. I've got some...energy masking to do, and a genius plan to carry out. I hope that I don't muff-up this one as badly as I have some others recently. Just please, _please_ stay in Oyu. It's fortified--and rural--enough that I'll at least have a free conscience on you three's parts."

"Very well," Aragorn, after receiving his companions' nods, "If we must wait, we will." Kieci looked relieved.

"Thanks."

The orb went black.

_I'm back…now please, let me know what you think!_

_-K-_


	18. Chap 18: Foresight Abandoned

**Chapter 18**

The wizard strode through the lower levels of his castle at Death's Wake, followed closely by the four Dark warriors and Leon. He walked purposefully, not slowing a bit until he reached a large, stone circular room. He turned and, appraising his followers, smiled slightly.

"I believe it's time to test your usefulness." Leon's eyes narrowed slightly. "Perhaps I do not doubt your resolve, but you have yet to prove your worth to me. As you doubtlessly know, I already have many powerful warriors at my disposal," the wizard indicated Sephiroth and the others, "If you cannot stand against one of them in a level fight, your death will be of no consequence to my legion. If you manage to win, however, perhaps you will be allowed into the fold. Perhaps." The small man snapped his fingers and the black thing binding Leon's arms fell away. Rubbing one of his biceps to loosen the muscle, Leon cast a look at the Dark incarnations surrounding him.

"How do you consider this a level fight?" he questioned. "Four on one, and me unarmed?" The wizard's smile did not falter in the least.

"I did not say all of them would be fighting you," he replied simply. He gave a small jerk of hand and the second gunblade left Seifer's grip and sailed, quite effortlessly, back to its owner. "--and now you are no longer unarmed. As to your opponent..." he opened his arms to the Dark men, "Any volunteers?"

Sephiroth let out a full-throated laugh. "Fight this child? A waste of my time and energy--much, much too easy."

"I'll take him," Seifer stepped forward, a nasty, eager smile on his face. Leon flinched automatically, distantly remembering what Kieci had said about enemies born from one's own memories.

"I think not." All eyes turned to the wizard, whose smile had faded. "You know very well he'd stand no chance."

"So what?"

"No sport in that. No, it will be someone else." He turned to the crimson-eyed man with short silver hair. The wizard's smile returned. "Perhaps. Yes, Lloyd I think it shall be you." He pivoted back towards Leon as Lloyd stepped forward. "This is Lloyd. I believe, perhaps, that you know him not. His is of the memories of your former comrade Albert. He's a swordsman, and a Wingly. Defeat him and you'll be assured a place in my regime. Perhaps. If you don't die, that is." The wizard headed for the door, Tidus following in his wake.

"He's a what?" Leon asked of his back.

"You'll find out. Perhaps."

The door closed behind them, leaving Leon alone with Sephiroth, Seifer and his opponent Lloyd. Leon began easing his muscles into limberness as Seifer, leering at him, went to Lloyd's side. Even at the distance between them, Leon distinctly heard his rival saying:

"He's got a weak left thrust. Cut him off in the middle of it and he leaves his right side wide open." The silver haired man smiled faintly and, raising his fire-bladed sword, took a step forward.

Down the hall and a flight of stairs, Tidus finally spoke.

"Do you trust Seifer not to get involved?" he inquired.

"I trust nothing," the wizard scoffed. "Sephiroth will keep him in line. Should the boy win, however, I don't know that he won't just decide to have a bit of sport and kill all of them."

"Think it'll happen?"

"Perhaps." The two of them proceeded through a hallway lined with cells, stopping finally in front of three occupied ones, where the wizard turned his attention to their occupants. "Have you decided to spare your friend and tell me the Dragon's plans?"

"We've told a you a million times, we don't know what the Hell you're talking about," Rose told him simply, her tone lofty. "We were brought here to fight the Weapons. Period." She met Kurama's gaze; he sat opposite the hall, watching her silently from behind the wizard's back. Slightly, slowly, he nodded. "Besides, if you're so damn worried about it, why don't you ask this Dragon person yourself?"

"Perhaps you should not be so arrogant," the wizard told her amiably, though a serious threat hung in his pleasant tone. "Your time will come, woman."

"Soon, hopefully," she responded. "I'm bored as Hell." The wizard's smile wavered and, after giving her a look, he continued on down the hall, Tidus on his heels. Their footsteps echoed in the stone passage, the sound rising several notches as they entered a high-ceilinged room not unlike the one Leon had been left in. This one was slightly smaller, circular, and already harbored one participant.

Tari was chained to the wall, her arms above her head; her short brown hair hung lank, hiding her face in the shadow of her drooping head. Her clothing was tattered and she bore the unmistakable look of one put through the ringer.

"Ah yes, the Technician," the wizard called jovially as he approached; she didn't move. "I wonder if perhaps you've changed your mind and will talk now." He stopped directly in front of her, openly taunting. "Well?"

Tari raised her head and spat. "In your dreams, asshole." He didn't flinch as he wiped his face on the sleeve of his black robes.

"Oh, so strong and defiant. Perhaps now. I think, though, that if I torture you properly you'll change your tone and sing like the caged bird you are."

"I'd never give you the satisfaction," the girl fired back. "I may not be a warrior like the Dragon, or like my comrades, but you won't get me to tell you anything. Ever." That nasty scowl that was so rare returned to the wizard's face, twisting it in anger.

"You will tell me what the Dragon plans to do with these warriors of hers. I will know, even if I must rip you apart to find out."

"You fear them," Tari pressed, taking strength from his fury, "-and you fear Kieci. Not for her strength, maybe, but for her tact. She's got an army at her back stronger than any you will ever muster."

"She has no tact; nor will she defeat my--"

"--your time is limited, orb, and you know it--" she cut off with a yelp as the flat of his palm smashed against the side of her face. The wizard leaned in close and snarled, his voice little more than a hiss.

"I will cut out your tongue before you die, to make up for its ceaseless wagging." He looked as though he was going to say something else, but he stopped as a side door into the chamber creaked open. The white mage that'd healed Tari's group came through it, followed closely by the larger of her two orcs; the creature bore a limp form swathed in a tattered black cloak in its arms.

"Pardon my interruption, master, but we just found this outside the front gate. She was begging for sanctuary, then passed out when she saw the guard orcs." The wizard paid her hardly any heed, dismissing her with the wave of a hand.

"You checked to make sure she is not a threat, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Then drop her in a corner. I have work to take care of." The mage bowed and motioned to the orc. The brute dropped its load near the wall opposite the back of the wizard, and the two of them exited the same way they'd come in.

Leon backed up a step, recoiling slightly from the flames that lit along the blade of Lloyd's sword. He pulled his gunblade into the "ready" position and, sweeping his right foot back, came forward at a run that slid neatly into a lunge. He drove his blade in, aiming for his opponent's heart, knowing full well that the Dark incarnation would dodge. He did, and the two sprung at one another to engage.

Lloyd was fast, deadly fast, and struck at Leon with a series of rapid reverse side-cuts that the youth was hard pressed to parry. Following a precise attack plan, Lloyd struck hard--right, left, right, left--alternating, drawing his enemy's attention into the pattern. Seeing Leon in a subconscious lull, he went to strike right again, feinted to the side and swept his fiery blade in at him with a high butterfly cut. The ring of steel on steel crashed against the stone walls and reverberated around the room as Leon, panting, blocked Lloyd's high swing and drove him away with a high kick to the chest.

"Impressive, for a human," the Dark creation wheezed. "But not good enough, I fear." He backed up a step, then called on the special powers of his kind.

Leon watched, mouth slightly agape, as two small wings of energy sprouted from behind Lloyd's shoulder blades. He hovered a few feet off the floor an instant later. "So this is what the wizard meant when he called you a Wingly."

"Observant," was his only reply. Leon brought his blade up to block as Lloyd shot at him, sword forward, like an arrow launched from a bow. The youth held his sword perpendicular, bracing his free hand at the top of the blade to absorb some of the force that he knew was coming.

Lloyd struck hard, holding his course without waver, his blade meeting Leon's so forcefully that it nearly notched them both. The resulting impact knocked the hovering Wingly from his flight; that same impact sent Leon sailing backward to land in a heap on the hard stone floor. Black spots flared in his vision, blinding him, but the urgency of the fight drove him back to his feet despite the horrendous pounding behind his temples. Leon pressed a hand to the place on the back of his head as he rose, and drew it back gleaming crimson. Lloyd, on a dissimilar note, looked none the worse for wear. He hovered, poised in midair, sneering at his opponent across the distance between them. Leon noted that, in all truth and honesty, he would have to use every trick he possessed--as well as pray for some luck-- if he was going to survive this one. It looked, to his dazed consciousness, as though he'd jumped in over his head.

And he smiled.

Raising a black gloved hand out to Lloyd, throwing every bit of caution to the wind, Leon beckoned him forward.

_Please R&R!_

_-K-_


	19. Chap 19: Abandoned Sense

_I'm baaaaaaack. ;)_

**Chapter 19**

Not so far off down the hall, Tari recoiled from a sharp blow to the stomach and fell, unhindered, to the floor at the wizard's feet. Tidus, ever ready, drug her back to her feet. The battered Technician smirked at her assaulters through a busted lip and a black eye.

"What's the matter sleezeball, no fancy spells to torture me with? Seriously, this whole physical punishment ordeal's getting a little old." Her voice was strong, much more so than she felt. The wizard responded by lashing out once, sharply, with a kick to the side; the woman cringed and doubled over, wheezing.

"This entire floor is laced with spells that prohibit the use of chanted magic. If it were not, you would be little more than a cinder by now," he turned his attention to the Dark Tidus. "Return her to her cell--I grow weary of this. Next time we have this discussion," he added, back to Tari, "-we will not be in the presence of hindrance spells." With that, and an angry waving-away hand gesture to his minion, the wizard strode from the room through another of its many doors. Tidus hauled his captive upright and half led, half dragged her back down the hall to her imprisoned companions.

"Someday all of this will rebound on you, _thing_," the Technician mocked. "Some day, in this very place, you and your master will get flamed by your own treachery." Tidus laughed out loud, casting her to the floor of the cell next to Rose's and slamming the door.

"Stupid human. You heard my master: our getting 'flamed' here would require chanted magic, and that doesn't work in the dungeons."

Suddenly, though, from directly behind him a voice chimed: "Some of us don't need to chant." Rose and Kurama, both seated in their cells, jumped in surprise as what looked like a serpentine-shaped energy beam shot past the Dark incarnation, mowing him over. The wave of power consumed the hall, its misty presence filling the whole of the walkway, its long head and jaws snapping. The semitransparent creature sped forth, straight past the four in the cells, to charge straight through the wooden door at the end of the hallway, sliding right through it. All of them heard a frightened orc shriek from beyond the door.

The figure swathed in the tattered black cloak, hood raised, stood poised at the end of the hall, hands stretched before her. Kurama and Rose lurched to their feet as Tari did, the two former unsure whether or not to welcome the stranger. Tari, however, didn't hesitate.

"Took you long enough," she cajoled, leaning heavily on the bars of her cell door. The figure half laughed, half disbelievingly choked.

"As if you knew it was me."

"But I did. No beggar in all of Technica--not even a crazy one--would come knocking at the door at Death's Wake asking for sanctuary. My friends," the woman added, motioning to the figure, "-I give you the Dragon you've been hearing so much about." The figure, on the cue, swept off her battered hood and stood, regarding the three as they regarded her.

"You're it?" Rose questioned. "You're the one who started all this trouble?" Kieci laughed as she drew a thin wire pick out of her pocket. In a matter of seconds she'd gotten Tari's door unlocked and had begun on Rose's.

"You haven't seen trouble yet, madam," the mage corrected, with a chuckle. For good measure she assured her: "I have not yet begun to fight."

Leon leapt forward, striking at Lloyd with multiple rapid thrusts that kept the hovering Wingly hard pressed and faltering. His unsteadiness in that moment allowed his opponent time to get in too close; Leon, running on pure adrenaline, spun his body and blade in a complete three-hundred-sixty degree turn, catching Lloyd in his retreat. The move was perfect, even though executed a little too far away, and sliced a horizontal slash across the Wingly's chest. Lloyd dropped to the floor, scowling as he stood there, black liquid spilling down his torso. Leon believed for an instant that he'd won: the gash was deep and his adversary was losing blood—(he assumed it was blood)—dangerously quickly.

Lloyd laughed. Bringing up a hand that glittered black, the Wingly drug it slowly across his wound. As the hand slid over the open cut, the skin knit back together and sealed itself.

"The Sphere that spawned me may no longer revive me, but I can still regenerate," he sneered. "You'll have to hurt me much worse if you want it to count." Now it was Leon's turn to scowl, though the unsightly look inhabited his face for little more than that second. In the next a bloodcurdling scream--Leon thought it sounded inhuman-- rattled through the room and something huge came sliding in, straight through the wood of the door.

Kieci's Symbol, her own rendition of the Chaos Dragon, coiled its snake-like body around and around the room's ceiling, its massive jaws open and ready, roaring silently to the heavens. Leon had just enough time to roll to the side as the thing plunged downward, directly at Lloyd. The Wingly was mauled down, swearing blackly, as the Dragon forced its way past and through the next doorway. Sephiroth, with a mad laugh at the thought of a challenge, raced off after it. The Dark Seifer, however, stepped forward as Leon did, to the place where Lloyd lay facedown on the floor, twitching spasmodically but not rising.

"Guess you win," the incarnation muttered icily.

"Not quite." In a swift and fluid movement, Leon pulled forth his gunblade, spun it, and plunged the sword through his downed opposition's back. Lloyd's body wretched; black liquid once again ran freely across his skin, though now it pooled and ran in torrents across the floor. Leon pulled his blade free and stepped back, appalled in spite of himself. "Now I win."

A moment passed and, to the youth's shock, Lloyd's back began to flatten, as though he were a balloon being deflated. His body dissolved quickly--sword and all—into a shapeless puddle of the same gel-like black liquid as that from which it had been originally formed. And Leon understood. With the lesser Spheres now Weapons, the Dark incarnations were beatable. Even they couldn't survive a sword through the heart. With an expectant half smile, Leon turned his attention to Seifer.

"I won't be that easy to kill," the Dark man snarled. "I know every flaw in your technique."

"I'm sure you do. But then, so do I." The two of them lunged forward at the same time; in that same breath a huge explosion rocked the castle, casting both of them to the flagstones beneath their feet. Leon made it up to all fours, wincing.

"This just keeps getting better..."

_

* * *

Please R&R…..and I'm TRYING to write, I swear. Being an RA slaughters creativity! I know, excuses, excuses….._

_-K-_


	20. Chap: 20 Sense the Obvious

_I like this part..._

**Chap. 20**

"What the Hell was that?" Rose demanded of the mage, as she, Kieci and the others made their way as quickly as they could out of the Wake's dungeon.

"My diversion," the Dragon replied slyly, though her voice was strained. She had the unconscious—(and very _heavy)_—Trunks propped on her shoulder while Rose helped support Tari and Kurama as they hurried along. "I set off an Incendiary spell--Explosion, the most powerful of the group--in one of the wizard's barracks by detonating the gem the spell was contained in. It's a nifty little trick, as long as you can channel your magic."

"What is in the barracks?" Tari asked.

"Orcs," Kieci responded, "-though you should say 'were.' I imagine the building collapsed on them. What a loss."

"But how did you manage to get yourself into the middle of the wizard's fortress without his knowing?" Rose objected, puzzled. "-if the guards caught you at the door?"

"His _underling_ met me at the door, not his guards. I can't control those brutish orcs--they're completely mindless."

"You're making no sense," Tari grumbled.

"Sure I am. Just give it a little time--we need to get out of here before we worry about explanations. Speaking of which..." the mage pulled a small red stone from her pocket, whispered a word and tossed it to the floor; another explosion quaked the hall, and distantly the sounds of crumbling stone and screams were heard. "That would be half the palisade coming down, and my Dragon munching guards," Kieci, correctly anticipating their questions, explained happily. The five of them had reached the end of the passage; a huge, bolted wooden door stood in their way. To the three that were being freed, it seemed a dead end; Kieci only smiled and knocked twice. As simply as that the door swung open.

The white mage from before stood there, her face devoid of any trace of emotion. Her bright green eyes had a blank look and were oddly glassy, and she stared off into oblivion without really seeing anything. One of her two carrier orcs stood beside her, heavily laden with a large burlap sack, looking just as vacant in the head as his mistress.

"Celena, where is the wizard?" Kieci demanded, her oddly pleasant air gone. When the woman spoke her voice was just as emotionless as her face.

"He is on the other side of the castle, preparing to launch an assault. The strike will fall before you manage to exit the other side of the forest."

"So the way to the forest is clear?"

"Yes. The remaining orcs you didn't destroy have been called to defend the wizard against the grayish snake thing, but it vanished a few moments ago."

"I know. Good. You and your orc are to accompany me and if anything gets in our way you are to step in front and take the blade. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Then lead the way to the side door, and hurry," Kieci ordered and, ignoring the questioning looks she was getting from Tari, Kurama and Rose, they hurried on.

Seifer and Leon had gotten up and squared off again, only to be interrupted by a second explosion from the courtyard.

"Damn it," the Dark incarnation had snarled and, turning to his opponent, had added: "He needs me up above. You are to stay here-- if you leave, I have permission to kill you."

"...Whatever." That angered him further, but the minion had no choice but to hurry to his master's aid. Leon, suddenly weary from his battling, found a seat against the wall and looked up through a small barred window that glimpsed the courtyard. Pressing a hand to the bump on the back of his head, he settled in to watch the show.

"This is too easy," Tari said bluntly. The five of them had made it beyond the destroyed section of what remained of the Wake's outer palisade wall. It had been hard for Kieci and Rose to support the other two--Tari was managing on her own-- over the jumble of stones and dead orcs, but now they were quickly approaching the edge of the forest. "Too easy," the Technician repeated. "How did we just walk right out of one of the Dark's strongholds?"

"Because the wizard set himself up to be invaded, and he sees that now," Kieci explained as they hobbled. "By creating so much Chaos energy with those orcs he spliced, he gave me the perfect environment to call up my Symbol. Normally I wouldn't be able to conjure it up without..." she trailed off; they had reached the trees. "Speaking of which, I'm shocked we didn't run across him."

"Who?" a tired voice inquired. Kieci looked down to the figure whose arm was draped over her shoulder. Trunks's dark eyes were open, his teeth clenched against the pain from his still-sore wounds. The mage smiled half-heartedly down at him.

"Don't worry about it. What's say we all get out of here?" She shifted all of his weight onto her left shoulder, holding him up with her corresponding arm around his waist while she fished around in her belt purse with her right. "One last spell left--Gateway." She produced a large, glittering black gem that looked not unlike an opal. Again she whispered to the stone and tossed it to her side; a glittering black vortex appeared there, spiraling in the empty space between the leaves. Glancing over her shoulder, Kieci called back to the bewitched white mage. "Celena, is the coast still clear?"

"Well, it was."

"What?" Suddenly, though, the mage understood. She turned her attention back to the open space in front of her and felt her breath instantly flee her chest.

A shadow, huge but surprisingly silent loomed there, a dark cloak whipping back from a set of massive shoulders. Her first thought was that she faced Sephiroth from the glimpse she caught of silver hair, but no-- this man was too tall, too broad to be Sephiroth. That left only one other person that she knew, and if she guessed correctly the five of them were doomed.

"Who in the Hell..?!" Rose exclaimed, reaching to her hip for the rapier that wasn't there. Kieci had launched into a spell for binding; it was short--if she was lucky, she'd be done chanting by the time her got close enough to strike at her with that enormous double-bladed broadsword in his hands...

The figure came forward, eerily fast, too quickly for Kieci to finish her spell and too quickly for her, burdened with Trunks's near-dead weight, to dodge away. His movements were fluid, almost _unnatural_, and Kieci's breath all but ceased, clogging and catching in her chest…seeing the familiar, horrifying solid steel gray of his eyes...her lips kept moving but his sword was extended, out and ready to impale her... unready for her own demise, the Dragon's eyes snapped closed.

_

* * *

_

_Yup. Woo!_

_-K-_


	21. Chap 21: Obviously Too Late

**Chap. 21**

"Tari!"

Kieci heard Trunks cry as her chanting ceased, and she felt his body stiffen in shock at her side. When no pain came, the woman forced her eyes open only to release her own gasp of surprise.

All she could see was the tall man's outline, Tari's back...and the bloody tip of a silver broadsword leveled point-blank at her. The blade progressed no further-- the Technician had dived in front of the attack and received it in a defenseless Kieci's stead.

"Murderer!" The Dragon became aware of a sudden heat from directly beside her, but she could do nothing—her mind, calculating and awake, typically—was numb from shock. Even as the figure tore his sword free from Tari's gut and she stumbled to the side, the mage didn't move.

"Get out of the way!" Rose cried, just as a wall of thorny vines erupted between the attacker and the five. Kieci had enough presence of mind to stagger-step back and turn to look for the wall's source: Kurama knelt, his green eyes closed, his hands entangled in undergrowth up to his wrists. Vines coiled up his arms of their own account as he used his recovering spirit energy to manipulate the plants. "Let's go!" The black Dragoon prompted, motioning for the vortex. Kieci nodded, still detached, and reached for Tari.

The younger woman was pouring blood. The sword had not only gone through her stomach but had angled upward as well-- the mage figured one of her lungs was collapsing even as she drew a short, ragged breath. Her eyes cracked open as Kieci half drug her towards the Gateway, and she managed an ironic little smile.

"Think I did something right for once?" she whispered. The Dragon's eyes filled for the first time in months.

"You did. More right than you'll ever know." She raised her head suddenly and cried, "Everyone through!" Kurama cut off his working; Rose helped him up and the two of them passed through the swirling black hole. Celena and her orc servant went next, walking and in no particular hurry; Kieci went to follow with the dying Tari when she realized she was missing someone.

Trunks, his aura barely visible and flickering a weak gold, was making his way to the vine wall that, under the attack of a certain broadsword, was disintegrating. He swaggered and swayed like a man too heavy with drink; in truth, he was a boy too light with blood. The Dragon swore blackly, then instantly cooled as she remembered her chant. A thought command later and cords flew from her free left hand, winding themselves around the Saiyan's upper body and going tight, making him wince as they bit into the day-old cuts on his arms. When the mage yanked once he staggered back a step but, regardless, continued to try to press forward.

"Damn it, kid!" Kieci mustered all her waning strength, her muscles suddenly and fully awake, and gave one last forceful tug as she let herself fall backward through the Gateway in the others' wake.

The three of them fell to earth a blink later, landing flat and in a heap in the middle of a grassy meadow. It was a place that Kurama and Rose, collecting themselves a short way away, were sure they'd never seen. The black Dragoon hurried forward to receive Tari while Kieci, dazed from the impact, tried to clear her vision. She noticed the tugging from her left side.

"Let go of me!" Trunks cried, straining towards the quickly dissipating Gateway vortex. Kieci struggled to her feet.

"No, I won't let--"

"I don't even know you!" the Saiyan roared; the mage caught her breath, taken aback. "But her-" he jerked his head to indicate Tari, "--I do. I will make him pay for what he did to her!" A colder side of the Dragon kicked in then, and with a frown on her face she clenched her left fist until her knuckles turned the color of porcelain. Trunks grimaced, dropping to one knee as his bonds tightened considerably; at the same moment what was left of the Gateway disappeared.

"I appreciate your intentions, kid, even the naiveté of them, and quite frankly I'd like nothing more than to send you back and let you try to snap him out of it. But," she approached the downed youth. The pain on his face did not mask his scowl, and Kieci made no effort to hide hers, "-two things. First," she cupped an impossibly cold hand around his cheek; he gasped at the touch and jerked away from it. "That is the feel of a mage gone way past her limits. I could not open another Gateway without an hour of chanting and knocking myself out. Second, if my spell cords tamed you this easily, I shudder to think what that man could do to you with a sword. You would be, to put it mildly, short work. Your anger and lust for vengeance will only take you so far, and against an opponent like him far isn't close to being enough." Kieci stopped ranting. Kurama's soft voice spoke soon after, breaking the heavy standoff.

"She's gone." The Dragon pivoted; Trunks turned his face down and away. The Spirit Fox knelt, his head bowed, beside where Tari lay draped across Rose's lap. The Technician's eyes were closed, her skin a pasty, stale white color. Her clothes were saturated past their capacity with blood, and a small pool of it gathered beside her still form on the fresh grass.

"Celena," the Dragon called, her voice quiet, "tell your orc to lift her. Gently." The white mage did exactly as she was ordered, and her carrier bore the woman's body away from Rose a breath later. "You two will follow me. The rest of you may go up to the house, the barn, whatever." She motioned to a pair of large wood-and-stone buildings an eighth-mile away. They looked deserted, though not in disrepair. Trees met the edge of a garden gone to weeds, casting soft shadows over a good stretch of fenced in land that gradually gave way into a thin forest on all sides. "You'll see a glassy blue wall if you walk a half-mile in any direction. Don't pass through it: it's a spell wall that deflects sensing spells, keeps sound in, keeps invaders out, etcetera, and I have to open it by force or with the door for you to get through. If you shatter that shield, not only will we be defenseless but the wizard will be able to track us down." She paused for a second and snapped her right fingers. The spell cords uncoiled from around Trunks, dissolving into nothingness before they hit the ground. She then motioned for the white mage and her orc to follow. "I'm getting a shovel," Kieci called back to the stationary three as her group made their way toward the house. "This won't take me long." Kurama and Rose, along with a subdued Trunks, watched her leave in silence.

_

* * *

_

_Oh sigh, I do do nice things once in awhile…._

…_.once it's too late._

_-K-_


	22. Chap 22: Late Respect

**Chap. 22**

Sir Auron leaned against the ledge on the top of Oyu's outer blockade wall, looking out at the forest spanning endlessly before him. Scout stood at his side, mimicking his slanted posture, her thick auburn hair flowing around her face in a cascade of ringlets. Neither of them spoke for a long time, both preferring to deal with their thoughts alone.

"The Dragon called you a telepath. Does that mean you can speak mentally to anyone?" The man asked, turning his head in her direction. Scout did the same, one thin eyebrow comically raised. As it lowered, Auron heard:

"_I don't know--what do you think?"_ Scout's voice resounded clearly in his head, though he stared at her the entire time and her lips never once moved. The guardian chuckled.

"Impressive. How about--"

"Reading thoughts?" she chorused, in perfect sync with him as he said it. "Yes I can, though I never probe past the active part of the consciousness unless it's absolutely necessary. Thoughts deeper than that are meant to stay private."

"It's good that you understand how people-- myself included--would not want you to see that deeply." The man said, a note of respect in his gruff voice.

"I can see that Leon's betrayal still bothers you," Scout said softly, carefully, "-without using my powers. I feel the same way, and I don't even know you guys that well." Auron didn't reply for a long moment.

"Then you shouldn't care. It's none of your business." The woman laughed.

"I should have expected as much. Well, stay here and mope then, abiding by the Dragon's orders like an obedient dog. As for me, I'm going to stick my nose in your business and scope out the woods: see if the wizard left any clue as to where he went with your...friend." She moved away from the wall and headed off at a jog for the stables. As she rounded a bend in the spiral staircase down, Scout called back: "You know you're coming--hurry up!" The seasoned Guardian, in spite of everything on his mind, chuckled again and took off after her.

"This seems like a very...calm place," Rose said as she helped support Kurama to the farmhouse's porch. "It's kind of a nice change from the prison, eh?"

"A change that came at a high price," the Spirit Fox remarked quietly. Rose sighed as the two of them sat down on the concrete steps.

"I can't argue with that," the woman acknowledged. She quickly changed the subject. "Kind of let the landscaping go a bit, haven't they?" The weeds around the house had indeed taken over, stretching in long tendrils all along the ground as well as up the side of the building and porch. Kurama leaned over, closing his green eyes. As his outstretched hand vanished into the thick green of the weeds, Rose watched in awe as the emerald of the leaves and vines drained into a dead shade of brown.

"Demonic energy can be used to inhibit life--" Kurama explained, reaching his other hand into the now-dead weeds, "--and also to encourage and manipulate it." From amidst the brown, buds of flowers grew up rapidly, progressing from seeds to seedlings to full blooming plants all in the space of an instant. Where there had been wild weeds a minute before there now grew a full bed of enormous red roses.

"That's pretty cool. What else can you do with this power of yours?"

Across the meadow and a jog into the trees, Kieci placed the last shovel-full of dirt on Tari's grave and backed away, dragging the back of her hand across her dripping forehead. She ordered Celena and her orc servant back up to the house, but waited a moment before following them.

"Please Black God, give her rest. After all this, she deserves it." It was as close to a prayer as the Dragon could manage at that point, and she wasn't sure that invoking the god of death from her own world meant anything in Technica. Sighing at the unmarked mound of dirt, Kieci shouldered the shovel and started away. Just as she did, though, she noticed a wave of green suddenly growing over the fresh grave. "What in the..?" she questioned aloud. As though in answer, a huge bud appeared amid the grass. From it bloomed the largest crimson rose Kieci had ever seen.

_

* * *

_

_The needs of the few over the needs of the many...at least when the few are depended on by many more._

_...It makes sense. Trust me. ;)_

_-K-_


	23. Chap 23: Respect for the Execution

"_Charging into a fight angry is like charging in blind. You might as well gouge out your own eyes and hand your enemies your sword."_

-Kieci of Ansramiece

**Chapter 23**

"Not one damn clue," Scout muttered angrily, kicking away a stone. She and Auron had scoured the entire clearing that had been the scene of Leon's betrayal and the wizard's escape. "You'd think I could sense something, after he used a Gateway spell."

"Meaning?"

"A spell of that caliber usually leaves a...uh, well, I suppose you'd call it a residue. When you use that much energy to connect one place to another, a hint of where the Gateway leads lingers around this end. Usually." She scowled, obviously in bad humor. "But not this time. I don't get it-- I've searched so thoroughly I've got a headache, and nothing."

"Maybe you've lost your touch," Auron told her simply. He wasn't in the best of moods either. As he climbed up onto his blood-red mare Katana, he jerked the horse quickly to the side to avoid the woman's retaliatory swing.

"Yeah, that's it," Scout rolled her eyes and mounted her steed. "Whatever. Let's just go back." The two horses and their riders picked their way back toward Oyu in silence, neither human wishing to speak.

It wasn't until they neared the edge of the trees that Scout, who was leading, finally said something.

"What is that?" She drew her palomino up short, stopping so suddenly that her horse--and Auron's right behind her--snorted in surprise. Both steeds shifted nervously, sidling anxiously from hoof to hoof, rocking from side to side. Scout sat rigid in the saddle, her head lifted to the sky, as intent as an animal that'd caught the scent of a predator.

"You're the psychic: you tell me." Auron replied a little shortly though he, too felt the disturbance. There was something wrong, very wrong, but he could not place it. The foul feeling in the air drove the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Scout's amber eyes were as large as saucers as she stared through the trees in Oyu's direction. She wound an auburn ringlet nervously around her index finger.

"The Dark," she whispered suddenly, and kicked her horse into a full gallop. The animal horse-screamed and reared before surging forward.

"Wait!" It was too late--she was already gone. Auron dug his heels into Katana's sides and clutched the reins for dear life as she broke into a run. The guardian had no idea what was really going on, but he knew from intuition that it wasn't good. Scout was a good deal ahead of him, though as Katana galloped forward the woman came into view, standing rigid beside her sweat-soaked palomino. He pulled her to a stop and slid down beside Scout. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded. She merely stood at the edge of the woods, speechless, and pointed out into the open between them and Oyu.

The city, in the short time they'd been gone, had been completely besieged. There were legions of assorted creatures, all of them filing in loose ranks in a flood around the walled town. From Dark orcs to enormous, horse-sized spiders, the open ground was alive with monsters. Worse yet, Auron could see a huge black shape looming on the other side of the mass of monsters. Sunlight glinted off the enormous thing's armored body, reflecting the bright rays in all directions. Catching sight of the enormous sword the thing carried as well as the barely distinguishable line between rider and steed, the man presumed he was dealing with a Weapon. Scout noticed it too because she suddenly lunged toward the field. Auron caught her by the hood of her cloak, cutting off her air and pulling her back. "Have you lost your mind?" he questioned, refusing to loosen his grip as she pried at his fingers.

"Let go--I have to get back to Molly! She'll be scared and the town guard won't know what to do without me--" Auron pointed toward Oyu's palisade with his free hand. A few figures were distinguishable standing upon it; one of them could be seen waving a staff through the air. The weapon was trailed by a blue light that turned into an energy that blanketed the entire width of the town from wall to wall.

"Aragorn will handle the guard, and Yuna is handling the magical defense. Besides," he cut off as an orc some yards away lifted its ugly black head and glared in their direction, "we're in more danger than they are." Scout seemed to regain some of her composure at that and Auron released her hood.

"You're...you're right: we have to get out of here," her voice was shaking, "I'll try to contact the Dragon, let her know what's going on." She ceased speaking and closed her eyes, placing an index finger on each temple. After a moment her face contorted with effort. "Dampeners...I don't understand, there shouldn't be...oh!" Scout broke off with a short cry of pain and dropped into a dead faint.

"What the Hell?" Auron questioned aloud, but he soon realized that it didn't matter. The inquisitive orc had sauntered its way over to the forest's edge and was sniffing around close by. "Unbelievable," he grumbled quietly; the orc perked its head up and stepped into the trees several yards to the left of Auron's position. He resolved to hesitate no longer and quickly gathered Scout from the ground, draping her over her saddle and tying her horse's reins around the saddle on his own steed. Then, taking a fighting stance in a low crouch, he readied for the orc.

The black creature had caught the scent of horse and was parting the waist-high shrubs and bounding forward in eagerness. It got close enough for Auron to see its beady black eyes. It was one leap away from him and from being within striking distance. The guardian let out a roar and rose up, swinging his huge sword down off his right shoulder in a fast arc...

_

* * *

_

_Please R&R!!!_

_-K-_


	24. Chap 24: Execution, Interrogation

**Chapter 24**

...that wasn't fast enough. A second before his blade would have gutted the disgusting creature a white blur shot out from the trees, t-boning the orc, grabbing it by the throat and slamming it to the ground to its right. Auron receded back a step as the orc let out a gurgling noise, managing no other sound as it died.

The white thing raised its huge head, black blood dripping from around its teeth. Its hackles were raised; a low, quiet snarl was audible over the heavy breathing of the horses. It was a snow white wolf, the largest the man had ever seen. Auron readied his sword, expecting the thing to leap at him. With a lunging growl the wolf pounced; Auron jumped back, shoving the thing's head and snapping jaws away with his free hand. In the same motion he spun to the left, slamming the flat of his sword into the side of the second wolf--this one just as large as the first, though dark gray and with a cross-shaped scar on its chest-- sending it to the dirt. The two animals, both of them snarling, stood shoulder to shoulder in front of him.

_There's something very wrong about these animals_ the man realized. Neither of the wolves moved this time; they appeared to be waiting for something.

"Kiba! Tsume!" Auron spun around; two men stood shoulder to shoulder before him, much like the wolves. One was dressed in white, the other in black, neither revealing more of their appearances than their eyes and the matching light brown of their hair. They were dressed in the flowing garb of a pair of ninja and each of them bore a scimitar on his waist yet somehow Auron had the feeling he had little to fear from the two of them.

"What happened to Scout?" the man in white questioned, his taupe-colored eyes glinting dangerously. The two wolves stationed themselves on either side of the men; neither made any move to attack but both still had their hackles raised in silent snarls.

"You tell me," Auron replied smoothly, undaunted.

"You are one of the fourteen," the black-clad male stated; it wasn't a question.

"And you're friends of the Dragon, right?"

"How are you so confident?"  
"If you weren't," he jerked his head to indicate the still-forming ranks of monsters yards away in the field, "-you'd be out there." The ninja in black, the one with green eyes and a long brown ponytail, nodded at this but said no more. It was the man in white who spoke last.

"You need to come with us--there is nothing we can do here."

* * *

_Pluggin' along...please R&R!!_

_-K_


	25. Chap 25: Interrogation, Confrontation

**Chapter 25**

Cloud Strife's eyes snapped open and adjusted almost immediately to the darkness surrounding him. Finding himself in a small tent he rolled off of his back and out from under the heavy blanket that'd been draped over him as he slept, rising up onto one knee and being greeted by a wave of pain from his midsection. His still damaged ribs made themselves nastily apparent but the warrior made it a point to ignore them, reaching around blindly for his sword. Unable to find it he swore quietly and exited the tent; the flicker of firelight caught his eye and he froze.

He could see the silhouette of a man thrown into dark contrast by the flames. Suddenly the voice spoke.

"So, did they have anything to say?" Another silhouette came into view beside him: the outline of an enormous dog-shape. Cloud watched in silence as the outline blurred, shifted, and settled into the silhouette of another man instead.

"Wolves say little and even less of it is relevant to anyone who's not a wolf. I did hear, however, that there's quite a disturbance at the Wake."

"Really."

"Yes. Something about half a wall of stone crumbling, and a large movement of the black things."

"The orcs, you mean."

"Precisely. It also seems as though one of the Weapons left there recently as well," the man who'd been a wolf's voice paused. "At least I _think_ it was a Weapon. Wolves don't comprehend the big dealings of the Dark too well."

"Regardless, hearing that the Wake's shaken up is good news, even if the wolves are a bit behind. Kieci must've given the wizard a run for his money," the first man said. "I'm assuming that means she freed the captives as well."

"I should hope so. The Industry's been having fits since Tari got herself caught. I'm still amazed that they put her in charge and not someone from the SFU..." He stopped suddenly and turned his head in Cloud's direction, poised as though listening. "I believe one of our guests has finally woken up." Cloud leapt lightly back into deeper shadows, pressing himself flat against a thick tree.

"Which one is it?" the first man questioned. The second rose from his seat and moved further away from Cloud, out of his range of sight. Cloud was ready to fight but the tall man's voice drowned the idea.

"The girl, the elf and the one in green are still here," he called.

"-so it has to be the blonde." The first man stood up and Cloud distinctly saw the firelight glint off of a blade at his side. "Cloud, wasn't it?"

"Who are you two, and where am I?"

"We're members of the Technician Army. My name is Alex Ross; my comrade is Robert Sikorski." The Commander was making his way into the trees; Cloud shifted his position, keeping what he thought was a fair amount of distance between himself and Alex. "We're uh, friends of the Dragon," he shook his head. "I get so tired of using that as a crutch. Look," Cloud rounded a tree trunk and found himself face to face with the dark eyed Commander. He took a sharp lunge back away from the man's drawn sword, wincing as he set himself in fighting stance despite the fact that he was unarmed. A hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"We're not your enemies," Robert assured him; Cloud jerked away again.

"And I will prove it to you." Alex stood, holding his sword by the blade in one gloved hand. He held it towards an unsettled Cloud, pommel first. The ex-Soldier took it, rolling it once absently before taking it in a two-handed grip. Robert moved over to Alex's side, and the three of them stood regarding each other for a long moment.

"Where are the others?" Cloud questioned. The two men gave each other a quick side-glance before heading back towards the fire lit clearing. Robert motioned to two small tents, one slightly larger than the other, exactly like the one Cloud had woken up in. He noticed several other larger tents scattered around the area. Never once dropping his guard, he peered quickly into each pergola and found, just as the men had said, his three sleeping comrades. "What happened to Aerith? And to Legolas? Both of them were fine before..." he trailed off. Where had he been for the past...he realized that he didn't even know how long he'd been out.

"You were under a Sleep spell," Robert commented, correctly reading Cloud's disorientation. "Aerith's concoction, I would assume. She and the elf are resting, as you were; they were merely...overstressed. It seems the Dragon was right in saying she pushed you all too far too fast."

"Yeah..." Cloud shook his head, trying to clear out the jumbled mass of confusion that was his thoughts. "That's all believable enough, but what in the Hell are the four of us doing in your camp? It seems too convenient to be trustworthy."

"True," Alex agreed. "It was luck on both sides. Our army was nearly wiped off the map in a large-scale battle over a week ago. The twenty-odd of us that remained were traveling through the forest and were ambushed by the wyverns that survived the battle. My men were not much for combat by then, seeing as how they were still exhausted from the previous skirmish. Aerith and Legolas happened to be nearby, and helped us to destroy what was left of the monsters that pursued us. The two of them merely overstepped their limits in the process. As to your third friend, though...he has not moved or woken since we picked up your camp and moved on, and that's getting close to being four days ago now."

"Four days?" Cloud was shocked. Surely he hadn't been asleep...? "Where are we heading?" It seemed to him to be a more pressing question than trying to figure out what he had missed.

"To the Dragon's safe house, as she likes to call it. It's another day's ride nearer to the coast that lies on the other side of these mountains," Robert explained. "There is a break in the mountain chain several miles wide that allows trade access to the coast. There's a large port called Pennyston there. The Dragon's hideout is on this side of the break, and sits right where the forest, meadow and mountain passes meet. Convenient location for our purposes."

"That's where we're off to, and we're supposed to keep your group with us," Alex went on. "That's direct from Kieci, as we spoke to her as soon as we knew we'd collected your whole party. She's got the whole Special Forces Unit on high alert now, what with the Weapons being active. She's trying to get us all to regroup; safety in numbers, I suppose."

"So you take orders from the Dragon?" Cloud wanted to know. Alex chuckled.

"Not hardly. Perhaps I made that come across the wrong way: our correspondence with Kieci is nothing more than advice between friends. When she talks we listen, and vice-versa. End of story."

"I see." He walked over and held the sword he was carrying back to its owner. "You'll be wanting this back."

"So, I take it you trust us now?" Robert questioned. Cloud turned his back and made his way back to his small tent.

"No, but I do believe your words, and I'm tired. It's not worth the effort to question the methods of either of you, at this point." And with that, he disappeared into his pergola. Robert turned to Alex; the Commander stood, arms folded across his broad chest. A small, satisfied smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. The head Intelligence officer, his best friend, shared the same look.

"He didn't even _try_ to attack us, and you gave him your sword." Robert commented. "That went well."

* * *

_Fun stuff! lol. intense argument soon, please R&R!_

_-K-_

_...is ANYone reading this?_


	26. Chap 26: Confrontation: Friend and Foe

**Chapter 26**

"You've not listened to a word I've said this whole time!"

"It's you who won't listen!"

Kieci and Trunks stood at a standoff , each roaring at the other, toe to toe and rage to rage. Kurama and Rose sat on the porch, the sidelines, and watched quietly.

"They've been screaming at one another for well over an hour," the Spirit Fox remarked softly. "I cannot foresee a winner in this."

"I don't know: Wonderboy's cheeks are pretty red. I imagine he'll explode soon, and that means the Dragon wins," Rose responded. There was no mirth in her words. Across the yard, Kieci's voice rose above Trunks's.

"By the gods, kid!! Are you that stupid?"

"Stupid?! We stood by and let him kill her!"

"As if we had a choice! Look, I'm not saying wanting to avenge her isn't noble, but for reason's sake, get that pretty head of yours out of your righteous ass!" That shut the Saiyan up and he backed away, a snarl chiseled into his features. The Dragon pressed her lead. "You know, you're just like him. Trace. You even look just like him. Five inches and silver hair, and you'd be Trace's damn twin."

"You say the name like I should know it."

"You shou----Tari didn't tell you anything about anything, did she? Fine. He was my comrade, the one they brought with me here. He's been missing for nearly two years now, but when we were together it was always like this. Always the fighting, disagreeing...only then, with him, I was the righteously dumb one. The two of us could never agree on the "right thing" and the "sensible thing." Listen to me, kid...I don't care how tough you are and it doesn't matter what kind of powers you possess...righteous vengeance never works." Trunks's already dark eyes shadowed.

"I do not need your lectures, Dragon."

"Obviously you do, kid, because there's a fine line between honorable and stupid and you're toeing it."

"You have some nerve," Trunks's voice was little more than a furious whisper now. "Calling me inferior because I want to take from that...that monster what he took from Tari. He's a cold-blooded killer, a Dark pawn. He must be stopped! Righteous motivation or not, you have to see that he must pay!" Kieci stood for one long breath, sizing up Trunks and the words he'd just said. Then she lunged forward and seized a handful of his shirt. When she spoke, her voice seeped venom.

"Do not speak about what you don't understand. You have no--" a buzzing sound emanated from her pocket just then and the Dragon let out a snarl. In a movement of anger-fed strength she shoved--actually _threw--_ Trunks away from her, casting the Saiyan to the ground. Had he been at full strength, or even paying full attention, she never would've managed it. Still growling, Kieci tore the buzzing Channel Magic orb from her pocket and lit it. "What?!"  
"Dragon, you're needed in Pennyston!" a male voice boomed; it was familiar but just then, in her anger and lingering weariness from the bust out at the Wake, she couldn't place it.

"And why is that?"

"The Dark...I don't know, some guy in a white trench coat..." That clicked.

"Fine, I'm on my way." The orb went black and she took off at a run for the stables. Kurama rose from his seat on the porch and walked gingerly over to where Trunks sat sprawled on the grass. The Saiyan looked up to see the demon's hand outstretched.

"I think that perhaps she was overly harsh," he said simply as he pulled the much younger male to his feet. There was no note of pity in his tone, though he did seem compassionate enough. "She was right to a point, but beyond that even she is unsure. It is obvious from the way she lashed out at you: she fears what the kind of righteous drive you possess can do. I believe that's the mistake she made in the first place: succumbing to that same drive." Trunks didn't reply.

Kieci came thundering out of the stables on Darkmyth, heading on a beeline for the edge of her barrier. "Don't forget:" she called out as she rode by, "-don't cross the line and you'll all be safe. The only ones that'll show up here will be the rest of the thirteen, and maybe the SFU. Stay here!" and with that, she was gone.

"Easy for her to say," Rose muttered, standing and allowing herself an exaggerated stretch. "Forget it--I'm going to take a rest. By the way...Wonderboy?" Trunks looked up at her and the woman didn't miss the angry fire that flickered yet in his dark eyes. "I wouldn't take her personally. I think she's just trying to look out for us." Tossing her long black hair away from her face, she turned on her heel and strode into the house. Trunks stepped away from Kurama, his head bowed. As he walked away in the direction of the trees, Kurama called after him.

"Are you all right?" The Saiyan, per what was quickly becoming his usual, did not respond.

* * *

_Temper temper..._

_-K-_


	27. Chap 27: Friend, Foe, Fatal

**Chapter 27**

Kieci kicked Darkmyth into a stronger gallop. She was pushing the horse much harder than she normally would have, trying vainly to outrun her confusion and her anger.

_Damn kid's put me in a right state, _she mused dryly. It hit her then that she didn't even know the damn kid's name. _He fought me tooth and nail to try to get back through the Gateway. All to avenge a person he hardly knew. How stupid..._it struck her then..._but exactly the same thing _I _would've done had one of the eight been murdered on that first night._ Kieci sighed. _Maybe I was too harsh with him. _Way_ too harsh,_ she realized, remembering the way she'd tossed him away from her. _Gods, Kieci,_ she was reprimanding herself;_ he was run through by a behemoth a few days ago and you bit his head off! _

_Gods, I am so hopeless. _

_I'll bet Trace never felt guilty after chewing me out, but then again he never beat me up right after being stabbed, either. I'm going to have to apologize when I get back to the house._ Darkmyth's shrill whinny and the faint scent of seawater brought the Dragon back to reality, and to the end of her hour long ride.

Pennyston was a high-walled, thriving port town that was larger than any other in Technica, save the three silver cities. As Kieci rode up to the gate, she immediately knew something was wrong. Her senses prickled uneasily and that, coupled with the pair of slaughtered guards she passed, proved that the Dark was to blame. As she made to enter through the now unguarded gate, she drew Darkmyth up short and swung from her saddle. A sneering man in a white trench coat barred her path, standing near the leftmost of the guard towers.

"About time you got here," Seifer jeered, hefting his gunblade up onto his shoulder. Kieci drew the thin scimitar from her waist, more than ready to skewer him.

"About time indeed. I was really hoping you'd be, I don't know, worth my time. Even without magic this is going to be too easy for me. Damn...I'll be bored." She was obviously still very preoccupied with her argument with Trunks, for under normal pretenses the Dragon would not have been so carelessly cocky. Under normal pretenses she would have probed the situation more deeply to make sure that Seifer was indeed her only opposition and, under normal pretenses, she would've paid closer attention to the shadows beside the guard tower on her right.

But even under normal pretenses, she might've erred. Exactly as she did just then.

Wicked amusement twisted Seifer's face into a nasty smirk.

"Oh, I really don't think you'll have time to be bored." A sudden cold understanding slapped Kieci in the face, just as she heard she heard the sharp click behind her. Spinning on her heel she rounded to find Leon, his face an emotionless mask, holding his cocked gunblade level with her chest at near point blank range. Her eyes had just enough time to widen.

He pulled the trigger, and a crack like thunder split the air.

* * *

_Ohh, tell me what you think please! I'm curious..._

_-K-_


	28. Chap 28: Fatal Intrusion, Last Hope

**Chapter 28**

"I don't understand." Yuna stood on the palisade with Aragorn and a few of the town's soldiers, looking out through Yuna's Barrier at the creatures waiting on their doorstep. "Where is Sir Auron? And Scout? Why are they not here?"

"We're not sure," Galen, the young man that'd let Molly wander out through the gate the few days prior, replied. "The guardsmen said he let the two of them pass on horseback several hours ago, and that they were headed for the woods. Said he heard them mention looking for clues about your friend's..."he choked off as Aragorn gave him a nasty look,) "uh, your former comrade's disappearance."

"Wonderful," the Ranger muttered, "That puts an army between them and us."

"I'm worried less about the creatures in the army than I am about that Weapon," Yuna admitted, glancing out at the milling ranks of creatures below them.

"This place is nothing but a farmer's village, its palisade little more than a shroud against the enemies we stand facing," Aragorn agreed. "Truthfully, not with every life within these walls could we summon the strength to turn them back." Those words struck a chord somewhere in the back of Yuna's memory. Suddenly, the light of an idea flickered to life amid her other grimmer thoughts.

"Summon...I wonder..."

"What's wrong?" the Ranger questioned.

"Nothing, I just had a thought. When Kieci calls her Dragon she uses Chaos energy in the air...I wonder if that's anything like calling forth the energies of the Fayth...but I doubt I could call to them from here." Seeing his--as well as Molly and Galen's--confused looks, she elaborated. "In my world we can summon beasts to help us, but we rely on prayer and the spirits of the dead to do so. I don't know if it will work here, but I suppose it's worth a shot." Gathering her staff she hurried down the nearby stairs to the open area below, Aragorn and the other soldiers watching her intently. Closing her eyes, Yuna allowed her thoughts to drift away, losing herself in a familiar melody...

Slowly, intently, she began to dance.

The young woman twirled her staff above her head, spinning in perfectly orchestrated moves without once opening her eyes. To the small populace of Oyu's bystanders that stood watching her, she seemed an angel just then, a glimmer of hope against the Dark tide they now found lapping at their doorstep. All activity ceased in the moments that Yuna danced, even those of the men who were bracing the gate. Everyone halted in the allure and sadness in her movements, enthralled.

Aragorn found himself reminded, in some odd way, of the Sylvan elves of his world. Something about the perfection in her movements, the smooth rhythm she followed that no one else could hear, made him recall the ageless beauty of the immortals from back home.

A glistening light began to shimmer at the end of Yuna's staff. When she stopped the light grew into a shining beacon that rose high into the sky above her. For a long moment it shone there, flared suddenly brighter, then vanished. Yuna sighed. It hadn't worked.

All of Oyu stood paralyzed for another long instant before the men near Yuna launched back into the task of fortifying the gate with wooden boards. Up on the palisade, though, no one had moved. Aragorn was just about to go below and help when he heard an inhuman screech from out on the field. Several of the monsters nearest the rear of the group brought up a warning cry, yowling and throwing fits. It was a breath before the Ranger truly understood why.

A shrill whistle split the air, drowning out the cries of the creatures. The sound was similar to that of a thin strip of steel whisked through the air so fast it was blurred; indeed, when the thing plummeted out of the clouds it was little more than an enormous gray blur. Yuna stood transfixed as the huge presence spiraled down, pulling out of its dive only just before reaching the barrier she'd blanketed over the small town like a roof. There it hovered, grandiose, glaring down at the stunned humans with vibrant yellow eyes.

"It" was an ivory-scaled dragon, larger than any she was used to. Its leathery wings were the color of fresh blood and ribbed with long, dagger-thin black supports. Its short forearms and massive feet were tipped with silvery claws, each of which was a short sword in its own right, and its scalpel-length teeth glistened nastily from between its long reptilian jaws. Though those massive jaws didn't open, Yuna heard a deep gravelly voice boom in her head an instant later:

_Who calls?_ She stared up at the thing, wincing beneath the force of its mental speech, and thought back as intelligent a reply as she could manage just then.

_I do. Are you...are you Bahamut?_ The dragon's long head swiveled to point directly at her, and even at the thirty feet between them she could sense the power in its bright eyes.

_I do not know of this Bahamut. I heard a call for the dragon king, and I came. _A menace came into the creature's mental voice. _How do you summon me, girl? There is but one on this planet who can converse with me. You are not he, though you feel similar, and your smell is different. Foreign. Tell me-- what are you?_ Yuna dropped into a bow, her head even with her waist. She held it for a long moment, then straightened and replied.

_I am but a mage, brought here to combat the Dark._ He snarled audibly, and more than one of the Oyuans covered their ears and cowered.

_Do not speak to me about the Blackness._

_I apologize, but you asked_ the girl reminded him, and cringed at the roar that echoed in her head in response.

_Insolence! Tell me why you called, _human,_ before I lose my temper. What do you want?_

_Your help--_she pointed-_-against that. This place is small. It cannot stand against such an assault. I ask you--I _beg _you--to aid us._ The dragon went silent. She watched with baited breath as he took in the orcs, the creatures, the Weapon. When he turned his magnificent head back in her direction, she crossed her fingers and hoped as she waited for his answer. It came all too suddenly.

_No._ Yuna's staff fell from her fingers to clatter noisily against the worn cobblestones beneath her feet. Her mouth fell open a bit in her shock; her fists balled in her outrage. When she replied to him this time, it was out loud.

"Why not?!" she demanded. "You have the size and power to make a difference here. Between you, my magic and the soldiers--"

_No--_he cut in, louder.

"Why? You've made it obvious you hate the Dark, why not help defeat a part of it here? Why don't you act like a true king?" That was corny, she knew, but she was desperate.

_I owe these humans nothing and your slander will not change my mind. I would be willing to take you from here--_he added shortly--_as well as the dark-headed one on the wall. Neither of you are meant to die here-- that is obvious by your feel-- your auras reek of destiny and the trouble it presents. You two are different. As for the rest of them...this town is doomed. I will not risk myself or my clan to try vainly to save it. It is not worth it._

* * *

Is it worth it to R&R? I hope so! Pwease?

-K-


	29. Chap 29: Hope Shattered

_Please R&R! I'd like, nay, LOVE feedback!!_

**Chapter 29**

"How can you say that?!" Yuna was absolutely furious now. "They're living, breathing beings just like you are! How can you just dismiss them like this?!" The dragon appeared unmoved by her speech. He lifted his head to the sky as though listening for something.

_The other human who speaks with me is calling. He is nearby, and wants me to take you from here. I will do this, because Fate demands it. Come._

"I won't!" she shouted at him, stooping and grabbing her staff. "Try and make me and I will flame you into nothing." A crackling boom that she assumed was a laugh rang in her head as the dragon gave its wings one hard beat. A simply as that, the thin barrier shattered. The resulting wave of energy pitched every human in the vicinity--on the ground and on the wall--hard to the stone and wood they stood on. Yuna, dazed, felt the cold ivory slide around her as the dragon closed a four-fingered hand that was half as big as she around her waist. Being mindful of his razor sharp claws he rose a little into the air and gathered Aragorn into his free palm. By the time the two passengers had their wits about them they were a hundred feet into the air and the wind was whipping fiercely past their ears. Oyu dropped away beneath them and Yuna looked just in time to see the Weapon, suddenly active, bash its way through the gate. The gate at the rear of the town fell as well, and a mass of the huge spiders led the charge.

"No!" Yuna cried out in anguish. Aragorn looked away, seemingly as pained as she was. Never had either of them so blatantly run from an enemy. _Never._ Not only that, but both couldn't help but feel as though they had sacrificed an entire town to save themselves.

A tear rolled down Yuna's cheek. It was a horrible feeling.

It took the dragon several hours to get Yuna and Aragorn wherever he was taking them. He was forced to slow considerably—nearly to an aerial _crawl_—as they flew over a dense wood; he appeared to be searching for something. It was a long time before Yuna heard him say in her head, finally:

_There._ Below them just barely visible past the trees was a small caravan of riders followed by two wagons. The two horsemen leading the train pulled their mounts to halt as the dragon descended as low as it could.

"About time you got here," one of the men called up. Yuna heard the dragon snort before he replied.

_Do not toy with me Speaker,_ he warned. _I am not in the mood. These two fools did not want to leave the doomed town._

"I _can_ hear you, you know," Yuna muttered. Aragorn gave her an odd look--she assumed that he couldn't hear the conversation.

"Can you blame them?" the dark-haired man asked loudly. "You just left a defenseless group of innocents to the Dark. Did you honestly think, given what they are, that these two would take that easily?"

_Do not lecture me, Speaker. It was not my concern. I did what you asked. _That was all he'd say, and a moment later Yuna felt his sinewy serpentine tail coiling itself around her waist. Quickly--and none too gently--the massive creature lowered her through the tree break and dropped her the last five feet to the ground. Aragorn followed shortly after. A fierce burst of downdraft from its wings and the dragon was gone as quickly as that. Aragorn was more than ready: by the time his feet hit the ground his sword was drawn and ready, and he himself set in a firm fighting crouch.

"Who are you?" he questioned. The man that'd spoken with the dragon chuckled. The other rider, a tall slim male, smiled as well.

"I've been asked that a lot lately," the stockier of the two admitted. "My name is Alex Ross." Aragorn opened his mouth to respond but Yuna, very uncharacteristically, took an angry step forward and demanded:

"Are you the one who told that dragon to take us from Oyu?!" The relief of getting two more of the thirteen into their safe keeping faded into the inescapable guilt of letting Oyu fall. "How could you force us to abandon those people?"

"It was not my choice," Alex replied shortly. "And it couldn't be helped. Neither one of you would have made a difference against so many, and we couldn't have let you die. Get over this hero complex of yours and face the facts."

"What?!" That was a chorus between Aragorn and Yuna both. Alex scowled.

"Think about what you're saying: you're angry because we sprung you two at the cost of the rest of the people in Oyu. There remains the fact, though, that we couldn't have saved them anyway--the dragon wasn't willing, and we just don't have the manpower right now. Beyond that, if we'd left you to go down with the ship like you wanted not only would you as well as all of the citizens Oyu be dead, you'd have doomed the millions of innocents from your home worlds. Get my drift? I don't like it any better than you do. We're this country's army--or what's left of it-- and just the fact that you're here proves we can't do our job properly. I completely understand why this bothers you--it bothers us as well. The fall of Oyu was a necessary sacrifice that we couldn't help." He fell silent and kicked his horse back to a trot.

"We need two horses!" Robert called back down the line. A soldier in the Technician maroon uniform and his arm in a sling complied, leading two spares from their hitching spot behind one of the wagons. Just as he passed it, though, a quiet groan emitted from under its covered top. Robert waved the driver to stop; Alex reined in his mount and looked back. A figure emerged, swaggering and leaning against the side of the wagon. The girl held on for balance with one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other.

"Ooh, my head," she muttered groggily. "Why...why is it so cold?" Yuna stared at her in shock.

"Aerith?!" Aerith opened her eyes and was equally surprised.

"Yuna? Aragorn? What are you two doing here? And where are Auron and Leon?" She'd just unknowingly struck two nerves. Yuna closed her eyes and turned away; Aragorn answered her as calmly as he could.

"We were...rescued from a village that the Dark has since destroyed. As for our comrades...Leon joined the Dark and Auron is missing." It was a little much for the drowsy young woman to absorb.

"Huh?"

"A little misinformed," a new voice corrected. "I'm not missing." Everyone turned sharply as Auron stepped through the trees, flanked by the two ninja as well as the two wolves. The Guardian was leading his mount and Scout's; the woman was still draped over her saddle, unresponsive.

"I'd prefer you all explain yourselves in transit," Robert called, turning his mount. "We're close now, and as soon we make it to the safe house we can finally relax a little."

* * *

Please leave me a note with the little button! woo!

-K-


	30. Chap 30: Shattered Serenity

Updated 8-13-08

**Updated 8-13-08**

**Chapter 30**

Kurama sat on the porch steps, one elbow propped on his leg and his chin resting on his fist. In his free hand he held a small black seed that he was manipulating to grow from seed to sprout and then back again. It was very quiet: he was the only one outside and not even the birds in the nearby trees made any sound as they perched.

"Damn you, you little bitch!"

Kurama jumped noticeably as the front door was thrown open behind him and, with such force, slapped against the wooden siding on the house. The redhead leapt onto the grass, setting himself and grabbing his trademark long stem rose, more than ready to call his whip. Rose came stumbling out the door; a looming black presence behind her held one of her arms behind her back and had its other huge hand clamped down on right shoulder. The orc shoved her forward another few forced steps. Rose snarled and tried to yank away from it but the creature dug its claws into the horn wound on her upper chest, draining her almost instantly and making her gasp in pain.

A light sound of footsteps floated out of the open door. Celena, the white mage that Kieci had manipulated at the Wake, came sauntering in her carrier creature's wake, her thin arms folded across her chest. She waved her hand at the orc--it moved out of her way, still dragging Rose, and the woman poised herself facing Kurama.

"I have no idea how I got here...no, actually I do: I know that damn Dragon did something to my mind, and that little telepathic bitch helped...but you're going to send me back to the Wake where I belong, or I'll have my pet here tear your friend's arm off. Get the Dragon out here right now or--" she cut off, choking.

Kurama watched intently as she tried to cough up the seed he'd just flicked down her throat. He had practice with such tactics and her widely open mouth was an easy target at so close a range. Celena was furious. "What was that?!" she demanded.

"A concoction of mine that I affectionately dubbed the 'Death Plant.' Once it takes root inside your body I have but to will it and it will sprout, feeding off your bodily energy and destroying you in the process." Her green eyes widened. "Release her." Celena, her face still seemingly paralyzed in surprise, snapped her fingers. The orc released Rose, who instantly jumped from the porch and took a stance at Kurama's side.

"Thanks," she muttered. He nodded ever so slightly, not once taking his eyes from the white mage.

"How do I know you're not bluffing?" Celena asked finally, one hand placed subconsciously on her stomach where the seed undoubtedly now resided. Kurama simply shrugged.

"You don't. However," he dropped the rose he held onto the ground where it shriveled and cracked in the space of a blink, "I would recommend that you believe me." The slim woman stepped back, scowling.

"Fine. You win, but I still want to speak to the Dragon."

"She isn't here," Rose answered for him. "Go back to the room she left you in and wait there--we'll let you know when she returns." Grumbling something incomprehensible, Celena snapped for her orc and disappeared behind a slamming door. The Black Dragoon huffed a sigh of relief, rubbing her sore wound.

"Thanks Kurama."

"It was not a problem," the Spirit Fox replied quietly, stooping to retrieve his once again perfect rose from the ground.

"By the way...where's Wonderboy?" He pointed and she turned; Trunks was right behind her. Rose jumped back, uncharacteristically startled. "Don't do that!" There was a dark and somber look on the youth's face and he said simply:

"Someone's coming."


	31. Chap 31: Serenity, Solace

**Chap. 31**

"Where exactly are we heading? I see a mountain, some big rocks, and more forest."

"That's exactly what Kieci wants you to think," Robert replied. "I know many of our country's greatest mages and none of them are capable of layering their magic like the Dragon does. They must have looser natural laws concerning magic where she comes from."

"I don't really understand," Aerith admitted.

"She facets her spells. The result varies depending on the type but in this case it's an illusion so real it _feels_ like rocks and forest unless you know exactly where to enter. Not only that, she wove in aggressive barriers that reflect and repulse any kind of sensory abilities by outside mages. It's even resistant to offensive magic, but those defenses have limits."

"Impressive," Yuna muttered, still in foul humor.

"Indeed," Robert agreed, missing her tone.

"I wonder if we should have called ahead?" Alex asked mildly. "The last time we just walked in she came at us with Thunder."

"She should be expecting us--she is the one who called us, not vice-versa." The two commanders trotted their horses further ahead. Yuna and the others watched intently as they rode straight at a large gray boulder. Aerith winced, expecting the horses to rebel; instead, the two mounts laid their ears flat against their skulls and continued galloping--straight through the barrier. The rocks remained intact; Robert and Alex simply vanished. A moment later Robert--actually it was just his head--poked back through the magical wall. "It's really not that difficult if you just walk straight through. Be sure you come through where we did." Those still outside the barrier looked at one another uncertainly.

"It can't be that hard, can it?" One of the men in Technician maroon and silver said lightly. He strode forward confidently; behind him, Auron glanced at Yuna. The mage cocked an eyebrow as the soldier added: "There's really nothing to--" he cut off with a yelp as he walked into a slab of gray stone. As fast as he'd been walking, he missed the opening in the barrier and hit the side of it so hard he bounced off. Several bright blue sparks accompanied the impact as the pompous soldier fell to the grass, swearing. Many of his fellows snickered.

"You went a little to the wayside, slick," a Technician with his arm in a sling called. Up close, there was a slightly visible area of discoloration in the stone: the entrance was marked by it. Wagon by wagon, the procession walked past the man on the ground. When he finally blinked enough to clear his vision, Aerith was standing above him with a smile on her face.

"Need a hand?" She pulled the crimson-faced soldier to his feet and the followed the others through the magical barrier.

The inside of the compound looked quite different from the outside: it was all smooth meadow and a few trees, not rocks and mountain debris. As soon as Aerith and the last Technician soldier made it through the opening, the glassy blue wall reformed behind them. Aragorn had barely taken another step forward, though, when the ground began to quake. The Ranger backed up, drawing his sword in a swift, fluent movement mimicked by Auron and the ninja, as well as the soldiers that were able.

A corral of green walls sprung from the quaking ground, completely fencing the caravan and its members between a wall of thorns and the once-again sealed barrier behind them. The solid emerald vines were dotted every few feet with red rose buds.

"This is new," Alex muttered dryly. He stepped up the rose wall and brushed one of the thorns lightly with his hand; it was bleeding an instant later. Turning, he asked: "What do we think: Dragon or the Dark?"

"I think we ask the royalty." Cloud was pulling himself out of the back of one of the wagons, much like Aerith had done, though he was leaning on his enormous broadsword. He was looking at Aragorn, who nodded.

"It is neither," the Ranger said after a while. "It does not feel evil...nor does it have the feel of the chaotic energies the Dragon gives off."

"That means it's another of the Fourteen," Robert concluded. He turned and spoke into the roses, raising his voice. "You can drop this...rose wall of yours, whoever you are. We couldn't have waltzed right in if we were your enemies." There was a still silence for a moment, then a woman's voice came wafting through the wall.

"What do you think, Red? Trust them?" she asked. "It's your call: you're the one who's going to have to hold them off. I've got no weapon and no energy to transform."

"Nor do I," a soft male voice replied. "Maintaining this barricade is draining much of my strength."

"How about...damn it, where the Hell's Wonderboy now?"

"I do not know. Trunks's presence would make no difference. Regardless if these people are friendly or not, we are gravely outnumbered."

"You're going to drop it then?" Within the green confine the soldiers waited silently. Robert, ever the diplomat, called to the two.

"I do not mean to interrupt your conversation, but you can either drop this barrier or we can chop it down. It's entirely your choice, but we'd rather not have to partake in the latter. As I mentioned earlier, we are your allies, and we are tired." It was scarcely another breath before the wall began to shrink in upon itself, its green tendrils receding back into the earth from whence they came. As it lowered and vanished, a red-headed young man and a woman pretty despite her drab clothing became visible to the cluster of people in the caravan. There was one that no one saw among the groups, though.

"Where is the Dragon?" Alex questioned. Kurama shrugged.

"She was called away. We thought that perhaps she was with you."


	32. Chap 32: Solace and Explanation

Updated 8-13-08

**Chap. 32**

He sensed her coming. Not _her_ so much--her energy insignia was weak--but the opening she made in the barrier. Even a small break in a working that big was noticeable, at least to someone who was looking.

By the time he reached her, all the way on the other end of the compound as the house, she was slumped in the saddle, and was maintaining her status there only with the help of a sturdy cord. As he approached, she lifted her dropping head and smiled ruefully at him.

"Paybacks are Hell, kid. I think the Dark got even with me for screaming at you." He shook his head and took Darkmyth's reins, heading back in the direction of the house. "Have the others arrived yet? I need to speak with them."

"What you need to do is rest--you look horrible." She grinned, amused in spite of herself.

"Thank you. I never do well during recovery."

"Recovery?"

"I'll tell you later." She sobered. "Seriously, though, kid--no, that's not right. I don't even know your name..."

"It's Trunks."

"Trunks then. I...I'm sorry for-"

"This is not the time," the Saiyan informed her coolly. "The others are here--I assume all of them are accounted for. I stayed around long enough to make sure they weren't a threat before coming after you."

"I'm flattered," the Dragon replied, swaying as Darkmyth pranced to avoid a large stone in her path. "I'm glad to see someone's got their head on straight. What about--" she trailed off as they broke into the main clearing by the house and barn. The procession of wagons had been parked directly beside the large abode; those of the soldiers who were fit to lift were carrying those who were severely injured on stretchers into the house. Alex and Robert stood attentively, surveying the process. Alex caught the sound of hooves and turned, smiling slightly when he saw Kieci.

"Always the last dog to the party. I assume you still use the basement as the hospital wing?" She nodded, working at one of the knots that held her in place. The Commander caught sight of this and frowned, noting quickly that something was amiss. "Tied? Have your riding skills regressed that much?" He said it to sound like he was joking but there was seriousness lurking in his tone.

"You're very funny," she muttered dryly, scowling as Trunks reached back silently to help her. "No, I'm afraid I was a little too lightheaded to keep my balance without assistance." She looked up as a crowd headed their way; many of them looked, in all truth, the worse for wear. Cloud, Aerith, Yuna, Aragorn, and the rest of the original group that weren't completely incapacitated wandered over to cluster around the two army leaders and the Dragon. When Kieci finally managed to dismount Robert called for one of the Technician soldiers; a dark-eyed young man in the tell-tale maroon and silver came forward and lead Darkmyth off to the stable. Just before he took the mare away the Dragon reached into her saddlebag and drew something small out. When she spoke next, it was to Cloud.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" she questioned, tossing it to him lightly. He caught it, wincing as he bent to grab it from the air, and straightened with a cylindrical metal piece in his hand. It took him less than a moment to recognize it for what it was.

"Sure--it's a bullet." Catching more than one blank stare, he elaborated. "We have projectile weapons in our world--guns--that launch them. With a decent amount of force." Aerith added:

"Why?" The Dragon gave her another rueful grin, hefting her cloak off of her left shoulder to reveal a thick wrapping of white linen.

"Because a couple of Pennyston healers dug it out of my chest," she explained simply, above more than one sharp intake of breath. "I'm glad I don't live in your world-that was one experience I don't want to repeat."

"How did you get shot?" Aerith questioned. "They don't have guns here, do they?" she directed the question at Robert and Alex; both shook their heads. Kieci's expression darkened.

"No, they don't have "guns" here...Leon bought his own."

That was answered with louder gasps, as well as more than one angry mutter.

"Treacherous--"

"What? Why would he--"

"All of this is irrelevant," the Dragon said loudly, speaking over everyone else to be heard. "What's done is done. Had I been as wary of the Channel Magic call as I should have been, it would not have happened. I was-" she glanced at Trunks, "-preoccupied. There is merit in all of this mayhem, though; a lot of pieces fell into place. You'd be amazed what you figure out when you're delirious." She looked hard at the group around her, sighing heavily. "Let's talk inside--I have something to take care of before we can settle into serious discussions--"

"It's about damn time you got here!" a female voice rang from the porch.

"Speak of the problem," Kieci muttered as Celena came striding out to them.

"You've kept me waiting long enough, you pompous blue-blood--send me back to the Wake or I'll--" she cut off, seeing the bandaging past Kieci's cloak. A wicked grin fanned across her face. "Oh, this is classic. Little miss die-hard know-it-all walked right into a trap, did she?"

"I am not omniscient," the Dragon growled. "Nor am I all-powerful. On that same thought, I can not--and will not--send you back to the Wake to do more of the wizard's handy work. I know very well what purpose you served there."

"What of it?" the other mage asked, propping a hand arrogantly on an outstretched hip. "I happen to be one of the most powerful White mages in the country."

"Exactly." Kieci agreed. Celena's confident air faded. "You sold out your entire village to save your own backside. I'm willing to give you a chance to atone for your sins by helping us instead of the Dark."

"And?"

"We have wagonloads of wounded. Being so talented, you should be able to patch up the Technician soldiers and my other comrades without breaking a sweat."

"I _am_ good," Celena informed her, "but that many wounded will take time. Besides that, what makes you think I'll help you?"

"You're alternative is to push up daisies." That was Kurama, voice calm and collected despite the threat. He was holding his rose. "Literally." The woman's face paled as she remembered the Death Plant seed still resting in her stomach. She frowned in the faces of all those standing around her as she turned on a heel and strode towards the wagons.

"Oh, and Celena?" Kieci called. "If anything odd happens to anyone in your care--if one single soldier _coughs_ wrong in your hospital ward I will personally cut you apart, piece by tiny piece."

"Spare me your threats," the woman called back, "I'm not going to hurt anyone. I like my body as it is, thank you very much." She followed the Technician soldiers toting the final stretcher down the side steps into the basement of the farmhouse.

"Now that that's done, we can all move inside. There's a conference room in the middle of the house."

"I should see that all of my men gets their tents built and are settled first," Alex told her.

"If you'd like they can use the loft in the barn. It smells a bit of horse, but at least it's sheltered. I think there's still some straw up there, too." The Commander nodded and moved off to direct his men. Kieci and the others all started making their way into the house, which happened to be surprisingly large on the inside. It had once been used by the Industries as a research outpost, but when they'd moved on and taken their equipment with them they'd left behind a large shelter that worked more than well as an HQ.

Robert fell into step beside Kieci as they headed down a long, wooded hallway.

"This has all come together quite nicely. You're regrouping plan, I mean. We were fortunate enough to have met some of yours at exactly the right place and time."

"Yes, but there's a whole lot that's bad about all this as well. As I mentioned, I have a Hell of a lot to fill you all in on."

"Should we not wait on those of the thirteen that are out right now before we begin then?" he wanted to know. "They need to hear all that needs to be told."

"I know. All of our separate reports will take time to tell. It will certainly take more than a day. I must admit, this first briefing will probably be short--I'm exhausted." The two of them continued to talk while, at the back of the column, Kurama caught up with Alex.

"I have a question for you," the spirit fox explained. The Commander turned a polite ear. "The wolves...there is something odd about them, is there not?" True enough, the black and white wolves were further back down the line, following the two ninja who were still walking side by side.

"Yes, there're odd. The last two of their breed, actually. They were known as the Bane of Jhagura in the old days, though in the myths now they just call them 'Demon Wolves.'" Kurama's attention heightened at the mention of the word 'demon.' "They can shift their appearances to look like humans. There--look now." He glanced back, and had to blink to make sure he wasn't seeing things; where the dark wolf had stood there now walked a male youth with short gray hair that was clothed in what looked like black leather. The white wolf had been replaced by a boy with long, dark hair and vibrantly blue eyes, clothed simply in jeans and a flyaway jacket. The two were talking quietly back and forth. "Something, isn't it?" Alex said, cutting into Kurama's thoughts. "They're still very much wolves, though. Why do you ask?"

"This form--my human form--is not my truest. I too am a demon, though I have been stuck in this body for fifteen years. I made a mistake shortly before this merger, and since then I've been unable to regain my spirit fox form. I thought that perhaps their energies would help me regain it--I _am_ much more powerful as Yoko, and I could better serve our cause." Alex shrugged.

"You'll have to ask them. I don't know if they're the right kind of demons, though." The two of them filed into the large rectangular room where the rest of their colleagues were filing in, taking seats on an assortment of mismatched furniture.

"Who are we missing?" Kieci asked, easing herself into a chair. "Cloud, with his ribs--Legolas, his head, I would imagine, and Albert...what happened to him again?" She directed the question at Aerith; the girl bit her lip.

"It was after he transformed. He was a Dragoon long enough to kill the snakes, then he just...collapsed."

"Excuse me," that was Rose. "Did you just say Albert? A Dragoon?"

"Yes. Why?" The dark haired woman got an odd look on her face.

"Thin man, long brown hair, naive as Hell? Dressed all in green?"

"Uh-huh. As I asked before, why?" Kieci wanted to know. Rose shook her head.

"You honestly brought that fool? He'd only been a Dragoon for a week in our world when I was brought here; he'd only transformed once before, and then only as part of an exercise. He had no idea what he was doing."

"He saved our lives," Aerith shot at her, a little angry at the woman's tone.

"And nearly destroyed his own overstepping his limits." she looked at the Dragon. "I'll go see what I can do for him. Go on without me." Kieci nodded, then addressed everyone else.

"Let's just get this over with, shall we? We've already lost a few...several, actually, if you count the army's casualties, to the Dark. The time has come that we review the way we've been going about this." she leaned back in her chair, weary. "Neither one of my plans worked for us. Splitting up had...obvious problems, though I am glad we did not follow my initial idea of staying together." she suddenly changed her tone. "Care to tell them why, Aerith?" The girl looked up.

"Pardon?"

"I meant, would you like to explain to everyone why it is I decided not to storm the Wake as a group?" That did it. Like a tidal wave the memories Aerith had buried from the nightmare she'd had their second night in Technica came flooding back. Glancing at many of the faces around her, she could not stop the flashbacks of each scene of the dream, the images of every agonizing death. The others more than noticed the spasm of pain that crossed her face though it was Yuna who asked:

"How?"

"Yes," Aerith continued. "How did you know?"

"I heard you, that night," Kieci explained. "Before you woke Yuna with your moaning. I figured something was wrong, but since you didn't feel compelled to share I listened in whist you were explaining the prophecy to Yuna."

"It was just a nightmare," Aerith objected, banishing the pained cries that were still ringing distantly in her ears. "I was just under a lot of stress, that's all. I was worried about everyone."

"Indeed you were. _Every_one. I would have agreed with you that it was just an unpleasant dream were it not for one little detail." The Dragon glanced around the circle. "Four, actually. Look around you, Aerith. I know you saw our entire group slaughtered in your vision, but there were four people there you didn't know. Two of them are in this room right now. Trunks. Kurama." The two of them looked up from otherwise pensive positions. "You saw them with us, just like you saw Rose, the raven haired woman that left to check on Albert. And Tari," she stumbled over the name. "The small brunette. You saw her as well. You saw all of them fight and die right along with the rest of us, despite the fact that you'd never seen them before in your life."

"People have dreams about those they've never met all the time." That was Robert. Kieci nodded.

"True, but I find it hard to call it a coincidence that those same four people got transported here a day later. Beyond that, you saw one other person." The other mage was staring at the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest with her arms curled protectively around them. No other body in the room budged an inch, nor made any sound, as she nodded.

"Yes, the tall one with silver hair and gray eyes." She met Kieci's. "Your friend."

"Trace. That makes sense now, too. Why you saw the Dark incarnations and those orc things following him. I'm afraid we can blame more than Tari's death on the Chaos element. We really should break this down for everyone else, though. We've been speaking in tongues this whole time. I know it's hard," she told Aerith, "but you must explain what you saw in that vision to everyone. Leave out the details of the deaths--that's asking too much--but anything, _everything_ else you must recount. There are large clues in the prophecy, and the more minds we have to piece them together the better." The other female sighed; Yuna, next to her, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Aerith looked up at her with eyes that were appreciative and, taking a deep breath, launched into the story of the vision she'd wanted to believe held no truth. She had to close her eyes to remember all the details, but beyond that she had no trouble recounting the string of events. When people started to die, she simply explained it by giving the person's name and ending by saying "fell then" or "was overwhelmed." She left it at that--it was too gruesome to spell out word for word.


	33. Chap 33: Yet More Explanation

Updated 8-13-08

**_Hi All!! Please please PLEASE review! I'm back--floundering a little, true--but I'm trying to get more done with this, as well as with my more popular KH fics. Leave me some reviewage!! Much 3!!_**

**Chap. 33**

By the time Aerith had finished, there was not a single face that didn't look alarmed.

"Yet another mystery," Kieci muttered thoughtfully. "You said that Trace called down to us before the Dark's initial charge. Something about "The twelve fall here," right?" She nodded. "That supports my theory about the wizard, then." The Dragon elaborated. "You see, Trace is an elemental, a Chaos Warrior. They're a breed from my world that are wickedly powerful when consumed by their element. One thing that characterizes the madness of when they lose control is their eyes: they turn solid gray, often with spirals of white and black. They also will make almost no sound as they fight; they may cry out a little, in pain or in anger, but a Chaos Warrior will never, ever speak. They don't retain enough of their conscious minds to do so. That means someone--probably the wizard--was speaking through him. I was stupid to think the Dark was holding him captive just for kicks."

"What does his being controlled have to do with the rest of this?" Yuna wanted to know.

"Well, it explains a lot. Chaos is the result of conflicting forces in the world--good and evil, usually--but it can also be right and wrong, or other simple things like that. The point is, there is white and black in everyone. Humans themselves are Chaotic creatures: our ability to reason gives us the ability to chose, and to be good or bad. No person is solid white-- there's a little hint of darkness in all of us, as there is with any creature that has the capacity to think."

"And?" Alex prodded. The Commander was not one for lengthy explanations.

"You're all aware that one of the groups was attacked by a bi-specie several nights ago?" There were nods. "Half-snakes usually only attack humans when their territory has been invaded, and they often live either high in the mountains right at the edge of the climate shift, or deep in the uncharted forests far to the south. Albert's group was in neither place. I don't think it a fluke that there happened to be giant spiders in the army that destroyed Oyu, either. They don't associate with anything that they don't eat. Notice a pattern?"

"All of them are creatures with near human-level intelligence," Alex supplied. "Wait a minute--"

"--are you saying that the Chaos is somehow being used to control the creatures for the Dark's purposes?" Robert questioned.

"Exactly. The wizard has found some way to siphon the Chaos from the environment--much like I do for my Dragon. He's using Trace as a catalyst, and is somehow using it to gain a connection with the more intelligent animals of Technica. It explains the tendrils I was sensing. I only wish I knew how in the seven hells he's managing it..."

"If he can control creatures that can reason," Kurama muttered quietly, "what's to stop him from doing it to people? To us?" That stirred a rumble of low murmurs from the room's occupants. Kieci had no answer for the demon's question.

"I don't know. I'm hoping the fact that we aren't driven by primal urge is enough to keep us from that particular fate. Back to the prophesy, though," she urged, and distinctly saw Aerith's face fall, "you said we were twelve. It occurs to me that, given the original nine, Tari, and her additional three, we should have been thirteen." There was silence, and then:

"Leon. Leon wasn't there. He wasn't in the dream at all." It all made sense, and it was giving Aerith a headache.

"Then were really were twelve then, and our line did crumble at the Wake. Our chain of warriors broke--Tari, fell there, died to keep me and my world alive. She was the weak link that Sephiroth was referring to."

"Just because she made a mistake?" Trunks demanded, a little too loudly. Kieci turned away; Alex answered for her.

"Not because she made one mistake--because she made several. She lead the three of you into battle when she knew you'd still be horribly weak from the passage between worlds, and she chose to disregard Kieci's warning in favor of following the Industries' intelligence, all without waiting for clarification. That was the biggest mistake of all. She reconciled in the end, but she paid for her errors."

"None of us have done particularly well with judgment calls lately, me least of all. There's just been too much on all our plates. That's why we're all gathered here: we're all going to be reasonably back to normal before we budge from this place. As much as I hate it, we have to sit back on our laurels until we've all recovered."

"That gives the Dark that much more time to act," Aragorn brought up, and more than a few others agreed with him.

"No, Kieci's right this time," Robert said, smiling a little crookedly at the mage's annoyed expression. "Rushing back into battle will not do us any good. Besides, I think the wizard is going to have his hands full fixing up Death's Wake. I hear a few of the walls met with...unfortunate accidents."

"Indeed," Kieci agreed and, with a glance out the window, added: "Let's call it quits for now, shall we? I'm ready for a nap. Talking incessantly always tires me." With that the group adjourned, everyone trailing off out of different exits. Kurama caught up with the two wolves, Kiba and Tsume, to ask them for their assistance; at the same time, Aerith caught up with Alex and Robert as they headed outside to check on their troops.

"I've been meaning to ask: why did you and that dark-skinned man attack us after we helped you with the wyverns? Did you confuse us for enemies or something?"

"Not hardly," Alex responded easily, rubbing an old scar that stretched down his left bicep. "He was no man, and he knew very well who you were. So did we. Drizzt is like Legolas in that he's an elf--he's just a dark one. We're not exactly sure where he came from, but he's a member of the SFU just like we are."

"He was unsure about the merit of bringing outsiders in to help with the Dark," Robert continued. "His attack was little more than a test to see if you guys were going to be any help. We were there to back him up, to keep you busy while he tested Legolas. He didn't want to have to deal with a mage." Aerith was a little surprised.

"Did no one tell him about the limitations? The weakness that came with being drug here?"

"Yes, he knew." Robert was smiling. "He would've gone easier had he needed to. Honestly, I think the two of you surprised him. Legolas had more fight left than Drizzt had expected, even if he did collapse right after you did."

"Huh." Again, everything they said made perfect sense. It was almost annoying. Still, knowing more was better than knowing less. "Thanks for clearing that up for me." The two nodded and continued across the yard while the girl did an about-face and headed back towards the house.


	34. Chap 34: More to the Story

Updated 8-13-08

_Hello! Please R & R and let me know what you think!! I'm just about up to posting as far as I've gotten with this. I want to know if anyone cares!!_

**Chap. 34**

Leon woke abruptly, sitting straight up on the hard cot he'd been lying on. He realized, somewhat surprised, that his breathing was rapid, as was his pulse, though he was sure the dream hadn't been that exciting. Quite boring, actually, given that it had been little more than a group of people sitting around in a circle and talking.

_It wasn't a dream,_ a little voice in the back of his mind assured him. _It made far too much sense to be a dream._ Everything he'd heard did make sense, though the fact that he'd heard it made none. He was neither mage nor Seer, especially not in Technica.

A large rumbling crash from outside drug Leon's thoughts from the odd vision; on impulse, he grabbed his gunblade from the bedside table and jumped to his feet. It was a moment before he noticed the steady blue glow of the Lionheart's blade, though he quickly dismissed the activation of its inert magic as the product of his nerves.

_Damn orcs are loud, _he mused, exiting the room as another rumble shook the Wake. The Dark creatures were outside still, working on trying to repair the walls that Kieci had taken the liberty of destroying. That was good, too a point: it kept the Dark forces occupied while Leon wandered pretty much wherever he chose. After the scene he'd pulled at Pennyston, the wizard had ceased to doubt his resolve. He used that--and the Dark leader's obvious preoccupation--as cover as he left his room and continued on through the dark hallways of the upper dungeon. He would've kept right on going past the empty rooms, had he not heard the voice.

"So close--you nearly got me that time." He had expected the wizard to be outside, surveying the repairs on his fortress, but here he was in the dungeon. He sounded abnormally cross, despite the obvious taunt he was making at whoever it was that was with him. Despite his good sense, Leon took a quiet step nearer the small opening in the door. "Curiosity killed the cat," the wizard remarked, his voice somewhat overloud. "I doubt that lion cubs are any different. You would like to enter...perhaps." Leon pushed the heavy oaken slab open.

At first he saw only the wizard, still cloaked in black, his pale cheeks washed in a shade of red. His left arm was outstretched, holding a spell-wall intact; this was one of the few rooms in the upper dungeons where the spells he used worked. On the other side of it, a silver-haired figure was rising from the floor.

Leon wouldn't have known him had he not just listened to Kieci and the others discussing him in his sleep. As it was, he knew the straightening man immediately.

"Perhaps you do not know this creature," the wizard said idly. "This is the one the Dragon brought with her from her home world. In her heart I think she believes him almost human...but tell me, lion cub: does this thing look human to you?"

Trace had finally regained his feet, though he was panting visible from the effort of rising. What looked like old scars had split and opened on his chest and were bleeding sluggishly, though he hadn't appeared to have noticed. The only thing he was paying any heed to was the wizard himself; he stood, rigid and ominous, staring at the Dark leader through the glittering spell wall. Even the blood running from the corner of his mouth—half open in a terrible snarl—streamed untouched.

"No." Leon said finally. There was something obviously wrong about the way Trace looked. The hunch in his shoulders, the posture he held as he stood—he looked not unlike a large feline might in mid-air. Even his fingers, shaking, were curled in like claws.

"Correct. He is an elemental, one that has served me vitally. I cannot deny that, though it has not been of his free will," he smiled evilly. "This one has none, not in the state he's in. Perhaps you can see the gray of his eyes?" Leon nodded. "He has to be in severe danger--or against insurmountable odds--to assume this form. It's very difficult to push a warrior of his stature far enough for him to be desperate enough to let the Chaos consume him."

"And when it does?" He already knew, but playing at ignorance would serve him better. What the wizard didn't know wouldn't hurt Leon.

"He radiates enough of an aura for me to use it to splice the orcs. He requires a little bit of assistance emitting that much, though." As though to prove it, the wizard extended his other hand and released a small fireball that blasted Trace against the opposite wall. "I have it down to an art form. I have to push him far enough that his body thinks itself in peril, though not far enough to incapacitate him. If he passes out, he returns to his semi-human state and I have to start from scratch. Perhaps. But the gem around his throat--" he indicated a white stone hanging from a stout leather strap, "-nearly prevents that."

"How?" Leon questioned, playing along. The more he understood, the better, and the wizard seemed unusually chatty.

"Before the Dragon swiped my White mage, I had her craft that gem. It took her weeks. It is a spell-container filled with Auto-Cast, Recast and Revive—spells you know, perhaps. The instant he loses consciousness, the gem automatically wakes him back up. The chain reaction happens quickly enough that the Chaos transformation doesn't have time to disengage."

"Wouldn't his body eventually wear down from all that stress?"

"It does, occasionally. When that happens I let him sleep it off for a day before starting up again. It really is a shame, though: he is the perfect warrior, at least as close as humanoid creatures can get. Perhaps. When ruled by the Chaos he knows no pain, no fatigue, no fear. The cons, though, are that he will eventually just topple from the strain, and also that he does not know friend from foe. Not that that matters to me." He sighed and, releasing another blast that leveled Trace again, muttered: "This is pointless. I cannot make orcs to replace the ones that the Dragon destroyed until more of the shifters get here." He turned and strode out of the room, pausing only briefly. "Sephiroth can deal with this beast--I am not so sure you would be as capable. Perhaps you should leave." Leon moved to follow him out.

Reflex was the only thing that saved him.

Masamune's blade whistled as it sliced the air, missing Leon's face as he jerked to the left to avoid it. A peal of deep, maniacally amused laughter greeted him as Sephiroth stepped forward, holding his enormous sword in the "ready" position. Leon scowled and turned on his heel, leaving the wizard and the Dark creation behind.

The laughter chased him the entire way back to his room.


	35. Chap 35: The Story's on Hold

**Chap. 35**

It had been two weeks.

Two excruciatingly _long_ weeks.

Nothing had happened, and that was both blessing and curse to the people living within the Dragon's safe house confines. There had been no word of any Dark activity; nor had there been any reports about creature attacks or other unhappy things of that sort.

Kieci and her off-world comrades had not left the compound for that duration. The only ones who'd healed and moved on were Alex, Robert and what remained of their soldiers. After a week of repeated healings from Celena for the soldiers who'd needed it, the Technician army had packed up and headed out for Clearion, the nearest of the three silver cities, to report back and receive new orders from the Industries. The two ninja, Ryu and Hayate, had gone with them. Kiba and Tsume had stayed behind, at Kurama's request for their assistance in trying to regain his demon form. He said nothing of his plans to the others.

One by one, those off-worlders that had been committed to Celena's makeshift infirmary recovered, at least to the point that they were able to move about on their own accord. Despite her previous Dark alliances, the White mage was as good as she said she was: she pieced Cloud's ribs back together, healed the slashes down Kurama's back, alleviated Legolas's concussion, and completely sealed the horn wounds in Trunks's and Rose's chests, as well as the bullet hole in Kieci's. She also gave Scout a large enough shock with a Revive spell to bring her out of her faint. All of the repeated healings she provided for them, as well as the Technician soldiers, left Celena with enough energy to breathe and not much else. By the time the last wound was closed she'd taken up residence on one of the empty beds in the basement. By the thirteenth day the only person she hadn't restored to working order was Albert.

"So, what's wrong with him?" Kieci asked Rose, the day after they'd hit the two-week mark.

"Nothing, visibly," the dark haired woman replied. "I would assume he just bypassed his limits and dug too deeply into his life energy." Taking in his prone form, the Dragon amended:

"Way too deeply. So his body's just recovering from the loss, right? By keeping itself in comatose, it has all the energy he'd waste in normal activities to work on rebuilding its reserves."

"What's your point?" Rose wanted to know. Kieci stepped over closer to Albert's bedside, opening her hands palm down an inch from his chest.

"If it's life energy he needs, maybe we ought to spot him some." An icy blue line of energy traced an outline around her hands, slinking up her arms and flowing down to cast a pearly glow on Albert's face. "Celena didn't have the strength for this." The Dragon took a slow, deep breath and closed her eyes; as she exhaled, she slammed her palms down flat onto his chest and a small shower of sparks scattered from the contact point. Withdrawing her hands, Kieci repeated the process again. On the third attempt, she shot so much energy through her hands that Albert visibly convulsed. It was shortly after, though, that the king's light brown eyes cracked open. The Dragon stepped back with a wry smile on her face, wiping sweat from her forehead as he blinked unsteadily.

"A crude method, but it works exceptionally well when you can't heal." Kieci trailed off, watching as the young monarch sat up.

"Rose?" He looked hard at her, an odd look on his face. Then his cheeks flushed crimson. "I...overdid it, didn't I?"

"Understatement of the millennia," Rose replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "I would know--I've been around for quite a few of them. You overdid it to the point of almost killing yourself." Her tone sounded vaguely amused.

"I had little choice," he rebutted. Normally, he wouldn't have argued with Rose, though now he didn't seem at all reluctant. Kieci watched the exchange with mild amusement. "Those things would've killed Cloud and likely me as well. I had to do _something._" For the first time during that conversation, Rose smiled.

"About time you stood up for yourself, kid. Not bad for a second-timer. Just try not to push yourself so far next time, got it?" She turned on a booted heel and left before he had a chance to reply. Kieci gave him a hand up, chuckling.

"A little unsteady on your feet?"

"A bit," he conceded, keeping the arm she offered for support. The two of them walked like that up the inside stairs, emerging near the large central conference room.

"You've been out for nearly three weeks," Kieci told him. "The groups have been settled here for two."

"Three...? I've missed out on a lot, have I not?"

"Yes, including Rose being brought here. I think she'd be the best one to fill you in one everything. Everyone else is a little..."

"A little...?" he prompted, still a little groggy.

"Edgy is probably the best word. Now that everyone is relatively back in one piece, they're all ready to bite one another's heads off."

"How's that?" the king wanted to know.

"You can't keep one strong spirit in the same place for long," the woman explained as they walked, following Rose's path. "Penning this many together is suicide. Cabin fever has run amok here like a plague in the last few days." They finally found the black Dragoon in the small room off the side of the much larger kitchen, munching on something neither of the two could--or wanted to--identify. "Do me a favor and get your king up to speed?" Kieci questioned; Rose nodded and motioned Albert to sit. Just as the other woman helped him down, though, two more figures entered the room.

"Dragon." It was Kiba and Tsume, the two wolves, still under their guise of teenage humans. Kiba, the dark haired one, was the one who spoke. "We have a problem."

_Well, here we go again…..Please R&R!!!_

_-K-_


	36. Chap 36: Hold on, I'm Trying

**Chap. 36**

"Lovely," Kieci murmured as they motioned for her to follow. Tsume, the silver haired boy in black, muttered:

"I told him it wouldn't work--we're not the right kind of demon."

"You told who _what_ wouldn't work?" Kieci wanted to know.

"It's Kurama." Kiba explained. "You know that he is a demon, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, he is not in his most powerful form as the human male you know him as. He has two other forms, one of which is a very powerful morphed fox-demon shape. He asked Tsume and I to help him regain it, using our energy to twist his own back into a demonic aura."

"I already don't like the sound of this. Continue." It was Tsume who obliged her.

"Kurama had us channel our life energy for him, thinking we, as demon wolves, would have enough of a demonic aura of our own to morph him."

"And?"

"I think our energy--being wolves' energy at the core--was too primitive to suit his needs," Kiba explained as the three of them reached the door that led out to the front porch.

"So he didn't morph. What's the problem?" Kieci was quickly losing patience. Tsume pushed the door open.

"No, he morphed--it just wasn't into Yoko Kurama. It was into plain old Yoko." The Dragon stepped past him, looking outside.

Then her jaw fell.

She had expected to see Kurama, and instead found a large fox sitting on the lawn before her. Its fur was the color of liquid silver, and its four tails were tipped with claret tufts at their distal ends. It was too large to be a normal fox, too odd a color to be natural. There was that, and the fact that its eyes were a deep, twinkling emerald green.

"You're kidding," was all Kieci could manage. She massaged her temples absently, feeling a migraine in the works. "That's...gods and goddesses; I thought I'd seen it all." She turned back to the wolves. "So he's stuck like that now?"

"Until he finds another demonic power source strong enough to drag him out of it. The kitsune form is his truest one, though. He began his life this way, before he grew powerful enough to morph on his own."

"Which he's not powerful enough to manage here. I hate this damn planet," she added as a side thought. "You can still understand me, right?" The fox bobbed its head. "We'd best warn the others. I'd hate to have someone shoot you by mistake." Kieci put two fingers in her mouth and loosed three loud whistles: the first and third short and shrill, the second long. That signal had come to mean "congregate" during the last two weeks of their restful confinement.

From all around the area people entered the clearing, most of them looking as tense as the Dragon had said they were acting. Many of them had their weapons in hand--trying to get back into proper shape was about all they had to stay occupied. Kieci opened her mouth to speak as the last straggler, Trunks, rounded the corner of the house to joint the congregation, but she hesitated at the sound of hoofbeats. More than one sword came up as the galloping sounds grew louder. It was another moment before two large horse-like figures came trotting out of the wooded area of the compound.

"Oh my," Kieci muttered, and actually bowed to the foremost of the two.

He was a tall, long-legged centaur, his horse half the most radiant shade of palomino any of them had ever seen. Each of his hooves was topped by socks and his tail, the same shade of light white, just barely brushed the ground. The sunlight in the clearing played off the modest--though noticeable--definition on his human chest, and shone in his sandy blonde hair that just barely brushed his shoulders. The light also threw bright reflections from the sapphire set in his left ear, as well as the heavy black opal ring on his right hand. Something about the centaur's build, coloration...something about the light blue eyes just seemed _regal._

"May I introduce LeMicheal of Aklinnor, first son of the highest order of his class, crown prince of the Windhoof family," she cut the grim formality with a grin. "You may call him Dusty." The centaur smiled in return, motioning forth his comrade: the enormous dun stallion that had almost bit Yuna her first day in Technica.

"This lad was throwing fits when I came across him. It seems he's claustrophobic," Dusty's voice was soft and melodic for his size.

"I know the feeling," the Dragon admitted. "We've had a bit of trouble with that recently as well." She looked around, confused. "I can't believe you came only with Storm. I had thought you'd bring..." she cut off as over above the trees something plummeted from the sky, landing with much cracking of branches and thudding. "Ah, yes. Birdbrain. I'm not even going into her titles: this is Melissa." Another shape had emerged from the trees; this one was flying as opposed to trotting. She landed not so gracefully, feathers flying.

"For I so resemble a honeybee," she joked.

"Perhaps when spinning in circles for hours when you ingest too much honey," Dusty added dryly and Melissa laughed, pulling branches from her long brown hair. In body she most closely resembled a muscular, shapely human female with white-flecked blue eyes not that unlike Dusty's. The unusual thing was that her arms were more like wings, lined with long, ginger colored feathers. She had not hands but four slender, clawed talons sprouting from each wrist. Where skin met feather and claw, it became ridged and bumpy just like a bird's. Her dress-like russet tunic was separated into a top and a skirt to show off a muscular torso; both articles were tattered along their edges and gilded in gold thread at the seams. The gold choker and bicep rings she wore showed her standing in her flock.

"Have you ever eaten the stuff?" the harpy wanted to know. "It's like a drug, there's so much sugar rush involved. It's great."

"Yes, great. That's why she flies into cliff sides when she's eaten too much," the centaur told the people in the clearing. Yuna and the others watched in silence at the odd reunion. The Summoner then leaned up and said to Auron:

"I thought harpies were supposed to be vicious."

"Most of them are," Kieci murmured. "This one...isn't."

"Being uptight is no fun. It's easier just to roll with the punches," Melissa explained, absently poking Storm, who was trying with all he had to bite her. Her movements, though, were too quick for the large animal. "Speaking of which, we have some not-so-good news for you, Dragon and friends."

"A surefire cure for your cabin fever, I'm willing to bet," Dusty agreed. "The Dark has not been as stationary as you have been the last two weeks."

"We didn't receive any word," Aerith told him. "No one's contacted us with any problems."

"That's because there's no one _left_ to contact you. The five towns the Dark hit were utterly destroyed. Anyone unfortunate enough to survive through the frontal attacks was hunted down by the Chaotic creatures waiting in the forests." Melissa wasn't laughing or joking now.

"I believe you know whom we have to thank for the Chaos," Dusty said coolly, and the spear of a comment was thrown directly at Kieci. "You failed to get him back again, didn't you?" The girl scowled, and the emotion in the clearing changed quickly.

"It's not like I didn't try." She motioned around her. "We all have tried, in different ways. The wizard is always a step ahead. It took everything we could manage just to liberate the few that Tari drug into his trap." An indignant growl sounded from her left; she threw up a hand. "Don't even start, Trunks--I haven't the time to argue this out with you _again._" She turned her attention back to Dusty, whose handsome face was darkening.

"We would like to suggest you try harder. All but the wisest and strongest of our clans have fallen into the net of Chaos the wizard and your elemental have woven. They turn on their own friends and leave to join the filthy army that is amassing at the Fortress. A war is coming, Dragon, and you need to fix your mistakes before it gets any worse."

"The godsdamn war's been coming for two years," Kieci replied. "I've been trying ever since then to get him back--you know that."

"That's not all, though," Melissa cut in, serious but not looking as fierce as the other two conversationalists did just then. "There're a few other problems up north. Several of the trade cities on the west coast have ceased to make their runs, and that's bad considering that they provide all of the fish trade for the more central cities. I've heard rumors of a plague but when I flew over nothing really looked wrong except there was no traffic in or out of the towns. On the eastern end...I don't even know. It's all just one huge cloud of gray. You can't see any--Ouch!" Storm had finally repaid the harpy for her ceaseless poking; the gelding, ears laid flat, spat a mouthful of brownish red feathers onto the ground with a snort. Melissa thumped him on the head. "Do you know how long it takes to grow wing feathers?!" she demanded.

"A week," Dusty muttered.

"It's the principle of the thing!"

"It seems," Auron cut in, "that we have finally been given a task. We should address it quickly, especially if there are innocents involved."

"He's right," Aerith agreed wholeheartedly, "we've sat around here long enough. One question, though," she added, pointing at the fox, "what is that?"

"Kurama," Kieci and Dusty chorused together. The Dragon looked at the centaur, surprised. "He is a demon, is he not? though he's stuck now in his most elementary form."

"How did you..?" The prince straightened his back a little.

"I can decipher the formations of millions of stars in the sky--interpreting the words of a fellow creature standing four feet away is not a challenge." He faced the others. "That is the Kurama you all knew as a red-headed human male. As you can plainly see, he is not human. There are many among you that are similar in this aspect."

"How many?" Melissa wanted to know. "I mean, how many of you aren't human?" Three hands went up--Trunks, Rose, and Legolas--and Kurama licked a paw. "Interesting," she grinned, "Guess this is officially the funny farm, huh?"

"Only because you're here," Kieci murmured, still cross. "What's everyone say we sleep on Birdbrain's news about the north and head off in the morning? I'm tired of hanging around here too, but it's too late in the day to get started now." There were motions of agreement from the circle and people began to disperse. To Dusty and Melissa the Dragon asked: "Will you be staying? There is room inside..."

"Smells too much like humans," Melissa cut in. "Even with your nonhumans to mix it up a little, it still _reeks_ like mortals in there. I can smell it from here. I'd rather sleep in a tree." At that she took back to the air, slipping in amongst the trees inside the Dragon's dome.

"As if their nests smell anything close to pleasant," Dusty sighed, ever the patient one when it came to his feathered comrade. "I too will pass on the offer. The barn is well enough for me--a bit of a downgrade, but your Storm has the most interesting attitude for a gelding. I was unaware a male without his...aspects…could have such a multifaceted attitude. I think I too will retire but," his eyes sharpened again, "we will discuss the Chaos in more depth soon. You _need_ to get him back."

"I know, but I'm getting tired of failing. When I try again, it will be with a better plan."

"You have said this to me before."

"Yeah, yeah. Go sleep with the ponies," the woman grumbled, waving him off and heading in the others' wake back into the house.

_

* * *

_

Two updates--whoo!! Please R&R! The action will cycle back up veeeerrrrrrry soon...

_-K-_


	37. Chap 37: Trying Isn't Good Enough

**Chap. 37**

'The room was cold, bone-achingly so, and she could feel the chill contained within the barren stone walls. There was little to see outside the jagged gray, save a few patches of grizzled crimson that darkened the floor. Dried blood was not something she enjoyed, but she had the unluckiness of having been familiarized with it.

As her eyes wandered, she noticed a bloody, limp figure, though as she looked she was unsure why it took her so long time to see him. The room was small, and his presence dominated the wall directly in front of her. He was leaning, she had thought initially, but that wasn't right, not by a long shot. He was hanging, _hanging _from the wall by his arms, chained there like some derelict marionette long since rejected by its owner.

_How did I not see him?_ The question plagued her, even as his appearance did. She could sense—no, she could _feel_—the pain radiating off of him, radiating like the little white gem that hung around his throat, pulsating in her veins to the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Aside from his tattered breeches it was his only clothing, his only barrier against the cold. Any normal human would have been shivering in the cool, stale air of the cell, but his was a body devoid of the strength for anything other than the bare essentials that sustained it. She could feel his lungs falling from their already unsteady rhythm, could nearly _see_ his numb mind trying to cling to the last silky strain of consciousness that was slipping out of reach. Somehow, she was deeply, intimately connected to him, to his mind and body.

To his pain.

It was there, a silent plea he could not begin to voice audibly. Still she heard it, heard it as the drooping silver head tried vainly one last time to rise and failed. There was a glimpse of the solid gray of his eyes, a flicker of blue, another slash of gray. She heard clearly as his heart gave one shuddering convulsion as it faltered, and then another. The erratic beats were as loud as drumbeats in her ears, slamming against the inside of her skull as he waged a war against his own failing body.

He fought his internal war for another ragged breath.

Then he lost.

For all that the white gem was working to keep him around, it too was failing. Despite its radiance—the magic it was emitting lit the entire cell—it too had lost its battle to keep its captive conscious. A dismal part of her wondered if it had failed even beyond that.

The gem gave one last flicker, one last bright glimmer, seemingly just to jeer at its failed endeavor. It flickered one last time, flickered even as his heart gave one more violent, chest-shattering shudder. In her mind she was torn from the connection with him, drug from him just as a silent, agonized scream ravaged her ears.

His world went black. Hers was ripped apart.'

Kieci sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat, her breathing ragged. Physically she felt weakened, but mentally she was shattered, shredded, just as his body had been. She had had true dreams before, but rarely, but despite their rarity there was simply no mistaking one. Fate had spelled out her next task in crimson ink, and that ink was the blood of the person she had thought she'd only temporarily lost. Now she knew that was not entirely true; she was _losing_ him, and this time for good. There was a difference, with a grim, dark finality ringing stark in the latter of the two options. So much for waiting for a better plan: she had to act, and act quickly. There was little time.

Kieci dressed quickly, pulling back her brown hair. She pulled on her sword belt—the one set with her throwing stars—and threw the saddlebags she'd packed the night before onto the floor beside the wooden legs of her bed. She kept only one with her, knowing she wouldn't be needing the rest for the trip she was taking.

Wandering out into the hall, she found three lamps already burning in the large central room. The dancing of the flames lit the rough wooden walls eerily, as well as the silent figures sitting within them. Rose was sitting with her legs propped on a small table while Aragorn sat in the adjacent chair, hands clasped before him as he ruminated in silence. Cloud was leaning against the opposite doorway, strong arms folded across his chest. It was quiet when she entered, but the Dragon got the distinct impression that it had been silent before that as well.

"Am I the last spinster to the party then?" Kieci questioned.

"Who could sleep?" Cloud asked her quietly. "The others are outside."

"There was too much tension to be contained in just this room," Aragorn added, standing. There was a distinct metallic sound as he rose; he was already wearing his chain mail. Rose got up as well. Kieci smiled slightly.

"Lead the way."

* * *

_Please R&R!! -K-_


	38. Chap 38: Try, Try Again

_Been awhile, hasn't it? Well, school is almost OVER so plan on more updates (and a large amount of revision, you can tell some of this stuff is old!) Please R&R!_

* * *

**Chap. 38**

Outside, the Dragon was surprised to see a line of saddled horses waiting patiently in a line. Aerith and Albert were checking girths, tightening when necessary, all under Legolas's watchful gaze. When he saw the last four exit the house Albert, sweating but with a grin on his face, called "I think I finally have the hang of it now!" Kieci looked on, slightly taken aback at the level of organization around her.

"First we take care of the North," Legolas relayed, "and then-"

"-we deal with the Weapons," Aerith finished for hIm.

"The only thing that remains to be done," Cloud added, "is the coordination of the groups. That job's yours." With that the Dragon was left standing there, the entire congregation watching her, waiting.

She allowed herself an inner sigh. It had been nice, she realized, being a step up on an echelon of heroes like the one she was surrounded by. It had been nice, knowing she was a little ahead simply because she'd been on Technica longer.

It had been nice, but no more. The limitations weren't as severe as they had been a month before, and these people no longer needed her to point them in the right direction. That was good, though, considering what she was about to attempt. They might not _have_ her anymore.

"All right then, two groups." She looked around. "Kiba and Tsume are going back to their pack. As for Dusty and Melissa..?"

"Leaving," the centaur replied.

"Only for the moment, though," Melissa added, contemptuously brightly, "We'll be back soon enough."

"Thrilling," Kieci muttered. "Very well. We'll split our flyers, Rose and Albert. Aragorn, you go with Rose. Cloud, Legolas, and Aerith can go with Albert. Kurama, are you still up to all of this in your present...condition?"

"He is," Dusty supplied as the fox bobbed his head in assent. "His size may be of use."

"My thoughts exactly. He can accompany Cloud and the others. Auron, Yuna, go with Aragorn's set. That should round it out nearly evenly, and I can't see you having any problems."

"Are you coming with us?" Yuna wanted to know.

"No, not this time. I have things I need to take care of." No one mentioned that she always seemed to have things to take care of.

"What about me?" Trunks questioned.

"What about you?" the Dragon asked him coolly.

"Which group am I going with?"

"You aren't-you're staying with me."

"What?" She stole to his side as the others, leaving them once again to battle it out as they had done so often before, turned to their horses. "I need you," she whispered, feeling his anger rising as his aura flickered into pearly life, then realized how that sounded. The dark eyes smoldered. "I need your _help_," she told him, even more quietly. "Please. Just give me a chance to explain." She felt the scrutiny in his glare, the blatant anger in his eyes. A moment passed, though, and he relaxed a little. The aura faded and the anger ebbed, though the scrutiny remained. "Thank you," Kieci murmured, turning back around. "Everyone, before you leave I have one last thing to give you. I found out the hard way that the Channel Magic spheres are not exactly safe. I believe the wizard hacked into my spell frequency, with Leon's help. It's difficult, but it can be done. That said, I think we should refrain from using the spheres."

"How will we stay in contact?" Aragorn questioned.

"Glad you asked." Kieci reached into a pocket and pulled out a gem that glimmered a silky shade of red. It was multifaceted, like a ruby, but its smoky sheen reminded Trunks, standing beside her, of the Gateway spell's gem. "This is an experiment of mine. I tested it already, don't worry-Scout and I are sure it works. It will sting a bit, but there's no chance a person without the mark can listen in."

"Mark?" Aerith asked. Her curiosity was shared by many of the others.

"Everyone, hold your right arm out, palm up. Make sure your wrist isn't covered." She tossed the gem into the air and quickly mouthed some words. The stone shattered, and a crimson mist wafted in the air around the people scattered in the clearing, including the centaur and harpy. Kurama kept his right front paw extended as the hazy enchantment descended, settling in small clouds on each wrist. There was a sharp flash of light and corresponding sharp intakes of breath; the spell burned as it set. By the time the haze had cleared, each and every one present had a small crimson symbol etched into their skin. "It seems weird, I know, but we'll be safer this way. All you have to do is have a reflective surface and speak the person's name, and you've got visual contact, at least one-way. We need not take chances. Best of luck to everyone." The shuffle back to horses continued; none of them were much for good-byes. Kieci made to return to the porch, following a still-unhappy Trunks, when she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. It was Yuna, holding a small leather pouch. Something in the girl's mismatched eyes looked hesitant. Culpable.

"I need you to keep this. I had a dream-" the Dragon raised an eyebrow. The Summoner cut off with a small smile, "-I have a hunch you're supposed to have it. Use it if you see fit." The other female went to open the pouch; Yuna put out a hand to stop her. "Just keep it for now. Don't open it until you're sure you need to."

"Your hunch?"

"You could say that. Call it a favor?" Yuna's face was earnest enough. Kieci reasoned that, if indeed the other girl had had a true dream like she had, Kieci had no right to tamper with her abiding by it.

"All right. I'll keep it-whatever "it" is-with me until I need it. Fair?"

"Very. Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She pointed to Auron, Aragorn, and Rose, awaiting the young mage. "The other group's already riding off. Don't keep them waiting." She nodded, mounted the replacement for her small spotted mare and offered a small wave. Kieci turned back to Trunks, who was waiting with folded arms on the creaky wooden steps of the porch. His aura had flickered back into life as the others vanished from sight. "One track mind. I _swear_ you're too much like Trace."

"You can start explaining now," the youth growled. He was clearly offended. "Is this about my age? The whole "stupid child" spiel again? Are you afraid I'll jeopardize their missions? Do you think I'm too brash and inexperienced because I'm not old enough-"

"I never said that," the Dragon shot back. She knew she had to play this carefully if she was going to convince him but it was hard when he was pressing her so damn angrily. "You're putting words in my mouth."

"That's what you made it feel like," he retorted. "Keeping me locked up safe here, with you."

"You're putting words in my mouth _again._ Believe me: you're far from safe if you come with me." She'd caught his attention with that one, and he released the door he'd been about to open. Kieci leaned against the thin wooden railing lining the patio. "The others will be safe until they reach the north. You heard Dusty and Melissa: the Chaotic creatures and the Dark army are amassing there, leaving the surrounding area barren of evil. As a matter of fact, we'll either be out of danger or dead by the time they even have to worry about a stray wyvern sentry."

"You have to be suggesting something completely insane if that's the case."

"You could put it that way. Do you recall when I charged in-somewhat haphazardly, I admit-to liberate your group?" His dark eyes widened, visibly so even in the shade of the porch overhang. The light bulb lit in the space behind them.

"You want to storm the Wake again." The Dragon grinned a little in spite of herself and simply replied:

"Got it in one. This time, though, we won't have the wizard to deal with. I had Scout help me scry a few days back, just as a checkup, and orcs were all we found." She motioned for him to follow her into the house. He complied, and soon they were descending down a rickety flight of stairs.

"It has to be a trap," Trunks said after a few long moments of silence. His aura flickered out. "There's no way the wizard would just go off and leave him unguarded, especially after you broke in there once."

"So you know why I want your help." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not stupid," the half-Saiyan replied quietly. "You want me to help you rescue your friend. The man that killed Tari." The two of them reached the bottom of the staircase where a large, musty oak door barred their path. Kieci pushed it open, snapping her fingers to light the magicked orbs lining the walls.

The room within resembled a small wine cellar, though as the clean light of the orbs played across the shelves within it became obvious that their contents weren't bottles. The light played off of more facets than Trunks could count, ricocheting off of one jeweled surface to light another. The walls were lined with the same kind of gems he'd seen Kieci using to store spells.

"You know what these are." The Dragon told him. "You're observant enough to have caught on by now." She lifted a heavy emerald, running her long fingers over it pensively. "I've had a lot of time to craft them, times when I've been decimated physically but fine magically and mentally. You weren't here when I told the others why I'm so widely known around this continent." She smiled ruefully. "I've been in every healer's hut from the silver cities to Oyu, and everywhere in between. I decided that since I couldn't do anything else, I might as well prepare for a rainy day. Well...it's looking pretty damn squally to me." She handed Trunks a pouch from the shelf on her right and began sorting through the stones, looking at their size and color and choosing one here, a few more there, and handing them to the silent male behind her.

"How soon do you plan on doing this?" he wanted to know.

"As soon as we're finished packing these. Two more..." Kieci reached up and hefted down two last gems, these both black and identical in look. "Gateways. One there, one back. I have few of these left, but we'd never get to the Wake in time, let alone make a clean getaway. You're right, too-it's definitely a trap," she assured him, jumping back to a previous statement of his. "I'm having Scout recheck, but we'll be prepared. I'm pretty sure he'll use an Insignia spell trigger for whatever hidden trap he has, so I planned accordingly. We're covered." She motioned to the pack he was holding. "No way he'll be able to tell who or _what_ we are with the mix I've got in there. We'll deal with application in a second, though-I need to talk to Scout before we go." She watched the young half-blood's face for a moment, just as he watched hers, weighing their chances silently in his mind. Finally he nodded and made his way back up the stairs. Kieci blew out her cheeks in quiet relief.

She found the woman on the porch, looking out over the meadow, past the grazing horses there and off into the void inside her own being that she was really seeing. She was brooding, still lost entirely in the death of her baby sister. It took her several moments to realize that the Dragon was speaking to her.

"...and you re-checked, right?"

"What? Oh, yes, sure."

"Are you paying attention?" she wanted to know, and her tone finally drug Scout's eyes from the distance to Kieci and the silent presence of Trunks behind her. "We can't afford this to go awry because you're going mental on me. Did you recheck the Wake or not?"

"Yes." She had.

"And you made sure it's safe and that there are no sentries or major traps beyond the orcs and the Insignia Trigger?"

"Uh huh." Scout had already lost interest-her thoughts were still on Molly, that she was alive somewhere...

"Hello! Damn it Scout, come back to reality for a moment and stop reeling over the dead child!" It was harsh and they all knew it, but it had the desired effect: it got the other woman's full attention.

"She's still alive; I can _feel_ it. I wish I could..."

"Oyu is dust! I am not trying to hurt you, but come off it. We can save lives—maybe—if you'd quit lingering on her death long enough to help us!"

"Why must everything you say be an encumbrance on my wishes?" she asked sullenly.

"Why must everything you do be a detriment to our success?" was the cool answering reply. "I know this all seems horrible and cold, but you _have to get over her death_. I realize she was important to you, but there are _millions_ at stake here." Kieci sighed. "I'm sorry. We have to go. Make sure you reseal the hole in the barrier when you get done running your checks. Don't forget to reopen it if you need to contact anyone either-we don't need you knocking yourself stupid against the barriers again." Scout waved her away with a half-hearted, nearly comical salute, resuming her pensive post against the railing. Kieci shook her head and motioned to Trunks, who followed her willingly down onto the grass.

"We now take the forms of two who would make sense walking around inside the Wake." She held up two tiny blue gems, no larger than her thumbnail. "According the Scan Scout and I did last week, the only major trap spell in place on the Wake was an Insignia Trigger."

"You might as well explain it," Trunks muttered, taking one of the stones from her. "I'd like to understand my own suicide." She ignored the latter comment and obliged him.

"We're going to mask ourselves with Complete Illusion spells. We just take something belonging to the person we're going to mimic," she pulled a white glove out of her pocket to show him, before replacing it, "-and then we simply connect the two items mentally, joining the essence from the object to the magic in the stone." Kieci closed her eyes then, concentrating. Trunks saw the tiny blue gem in her hand begin to glow. The pearly shimmer shrouded the woman's entire body for a few moments and when it finally dissipated, the half-Saiyan was left facing Celena.

"See?" the White mage asked, and Trunks was taken aback by the reality of the illusion. He could not physically tell that he was still facing the Dragon. "Now, we just need an outfit for you. An orc perhaps?" She dismissed the thought even as he shook his head. "Too much work. One of the Dark creations then?" Even as she voiced the idea, though, she noticed the gem in Trunks's open hand beginning to light the same way hers had. Later she would remember that the small pouch hanging against her left hip grew suddenly warm, much as the glove had given off a little heat as the spell connected with it. At the time, though, she was too engrossed to notice for after the engrossing glow and its subsequent fading, she was standing a few feet from a very convincing replica of Leon. The very image of him put a scowl on her face. She did not even question how the spell had worked—it had likely been a hair or something. Motioning to Trunks, she whispered the words for her first Gateway gem.

"Keep them occupied," was all she said as the two of them stepped through.


	39. Chap 39: Again, This Time With Feeling

**Chap. 39**

The glistening portal opened within the outer wall, about three hundred and fifty yards from where the original Gateway had been during the first escape. It lasted just long enough for Kieci and Trunks-still aptly disguised as Celena and Leon-to step through before it dissipated back into the nothingness from whence it came. It was now or never.

Signaling Trunks with a hand motion to fan out to the left Kieci strode purposefully off to the right, heading for the side entrance to the castle's descending stairs, ones she hoped would take her directly to the dungeons and out of sight. Conversely, Trunks was taking the main entrance into the Wake. All eyes needed to remain on him so the Dragon could do her work unbothered.

Striding around with the arrogance of a cat, (Celena always seemed to be sauntering), Kieci wove through a throng of orcs to reach the heavy door set deep in the stone. More than a few of the smelly, jaundice-eyed beasts glared at her but, being familiar with the White mage and her presence, let her pass by undisturbed. Undisturbed but for their putrid odor, that is, for Kieci nearly gagged as her stomach rebelled, threatening for a long moment to heave its contents out onto the stony ground. The Dragon forced herself to think of Trace and only Trace, using the urgency she'd taken from her dream to quell the urge to be sick. The thought inspired a different kind of illness within her, but one that was far easier to deal with. When she had sufficiently composed herself, she pulled a shuriken-one with an odd, glistening stone in its center-from her belt and descended the side stairwell to the level just above the dungeons.

It was fortunate for Kieci that she was a good guesser: first off she had found the upper-level dungeons in one try and second, she would need her shuriken because the orcs in front of her were charging, following orders to let no one—ally or not—into the dungeon without the wizard's consent. The Dragon was facing four of the foul creatures, running at her full tilt and with crude, jagged weapons raised.

One shuriken was nearly a waste.

Aiming carefully for the foremost orc, she pulled back her right arm and threw. The little throwing star whistled through the air, lodging itself blade deep right between the monster's eyes. Kieci then utilized the gem set in the shuriken's center. The mage snapped, and a violent explosion rocked the hallway.

"No chanted magic indeed," Kieci recalled, stepping tentatively around body parts and through a puddle of dark blood. "Some of us don't need to chant." She looked down as her body took on a momentary glow; as the light faded, she was looking at her own clothing instead of Celena's white robes.

_That's odd… _She stumbled forward then as the hall gave a heavier, sickening lurch and a sheet of dust from the ceiling rained down on her. She heard the cracking of stone and dove; a ton of rock cascaded into the entryway behind her. Pebbles and boulders alike fell from the upper levels and filled the opening. Coughing and sputtering in the darkness—the wave of dust had put out the torches nearest to her—the Dragon looked back in dumbfounded shock.

She had missed being crushed by less than four feet.

Climbing shakily to her feet, the mage looked around, still confused, as the castle walls around her continued to shake. A sound of stone grinding against stone echoed to her from down open end of the dungeon hallway, and she picked herself up into a run. Her explosion had not been nearly strong enough to trigger a chain reaction like the one that was obviously beginning, and that meant only one thing: somehow, she had triggered something much bigger.

_Couldn't've been my spell,_ she reasoned as she ran, seeking the stairs that would lead her lower into the castle's depths. _It takes a lot more than that to set off an Insignia Trigger and my energy is completely masked._ She was right, she knew, and nothing she had done magically could've set off the trap spell.

But if she hadn't triggered it magically by chanting, then how…?

Trunks ducked behind a corner, effectively confusing the three orcs that had been tailing him. His now storm-gray eyes went wide as the wall he was leaning against convulsed once and then again, two tremors in a rapid succession. Gripped with sudden worry for Kieci—the blasts had sounded from down below—he rounded on the three creatures pursuing him, thinking to back-track to the dungeon entrance. There were seven armed orcs now and, for what would be the first of several times that day, Trunks mourned that he did not have his broadsword with him and raised his fists.

* * *

Leon felt the third explosion vividly: it nearly threw him to the floor as he ran. It didn't take crumbling stone or screaming orcs to tell him it was time to get out of the Wake—the Lionheart had begun to shimmer, humming slightly as it always did when its wielder was facing dire circumstances. The blade was a poisonous, electric blue, its sheen eerie against the dull mortar and rock around him in the lower dungeon. He had to find his quarry and get the Hell out.

Turning down a narrow dead-end hall, Leon took a wild guess, trying vainly to remember where the cell had been. The room he had first seen was back and to his right, but that was not where his chare was actually kept. A slight hint of reddish-brown on the floor caught his attention as he slowed to a walk, the Lionheart vibrating still between his gloved fingers. Opening the lock with his free hand he tested the door once—it didn't move. _Damn._ Nothing was ever easy. Lowering his shoulder and noting mentally that what he was about to do was going to hurt, he flipped open the latch on the door and rammed it. The mass of wood wavered and held, budging only slightly. Leon clamped his teeth together and slammed himself against it again.

The third time was the charm and the sudden change in inertia had him stumbling forward into the tiny cell. Cringing back a little in plain disgust—the place reeked of old blood—he was still relieved to find that he'd gotten it right on the first try.

Trace fought to raise his head, still hanging from his chained wrists against the cold stone wall. Leon stepped forward, watching him intently, noting with interest the way the white gem around the other man's throat kept flickering. A fourth blast shook loose dirt from the ceiling; the youth remembered there was no time for polite interest. Reaching, he yanked the gem and its cord from around Trace's neck.

The silver head snapped back as the man's body shot compulsively rigid. Leon caught a glimpse of fading gray as Trace's eyes slid back into their normal color: a dull, tired midnight blue. The elemental's body went limp as the Chaos receded and Leon was surprised to see that Trace, panting hard for breath, managed to remain conscious as the transformation completed itself.

"…who?" The man's voice was rough with nonuse; his inner throat, by the sound, was in shreds.

"Leon," he replied shortly. Then, hesitating…: "…a friend. Can you walk?" It was a frivolous question, he knew, as Trace was already clenching his eyes and jaw shut against what the youth didn't doubt was a hellish amount of pain. He muttered something that sounded like 'leffarurts.'

"What?"

"…left arm…hurts…" In light of everything else that was so obviously wrong with him, Leon wondered in passing why Trace had mentioned that particular ail. A fifth blast—this one so close that a few stones along the walls and ceiling cracked—served to again reiterate the urgency of the situation. The elemental glanced around them, try to process everything that was going on. "I don't…not sure how long I've been out…"

"Too long," the SeeD replied. "This place is coming down, we need to go." The Lionheart's pommel worked well as a hammer, for the lack of a better tool to break the rusted chain holding Trace against the wall. No sooner had the last link cracked that the fatigued man collapsed forward; even emaciated, his weight was enough to force Leon into a bow until the he got situated, using his left arm to hold up the elemental. It would be slow going—he had to practically drag the fainting Trace along with him, and already a sixth blast had sounded. _Be interesting to see if we make it out of this one,_ Leon mused, trudging slowly up the hall. The startlingly slow pace was all he could manage. _If we do, it's going to be close._

Trunks dropped to one knee, boosting an orc over his shoulder as the beast rushed past; he tore the blackened spear from its grip and plunged it into the heart of the creature charging in behind it. A surge of ebon blood splashed over the half-Saiyan—the thing from whence it flowed toppled forward, pinning the youth beneath it. "Darn it," Trunks breathed, shoving the creature off. A feral roar drove him to his feet with raised fists as two more of the Dark creations hurtled themselves, swords first, into his range. His reactions were purely instinctual.

The first blade missed, swinging out wide as he feinted to the right; the second orc's blade overcompensated and slid narrowly past, clipping his shoulder and ear and leaving razor thin slits. Momentum carried the beast off balance. Trunks's right fist, aimed between its eyes, carried it straight into oblivion. He lunged then through the side door Kieci had taken, ignoring the pursuit of orcs behind him.

A seventh blast had sounded, this one large enough to split the eastern wall where he stood straight up the side, the ancient rocks giving way easily to the sheer force of the pressure. Trunks found the hallway before him blocked by fallen rocks. Turning a corner, he picked up speed into the fastest run he could manage with the floor quaking beneath his feet.

The orcs no longer mattered.

Kieci stood staring, wasting precious seconds trapped in the cold arms of pure, unadulterated disbelief. The hall before her split into two long corridors that split and split again into four more, leaving her with eight dungeon rows lined on either side with more cells than she cared to think about. She could see from where she stood that the Wake's lowest basement was the last thing she had dared to dread when planning her foolhardy rescue: a labyrinth. Side passages crossed the larger corridors and crossed again, doubling back upon one another in zigzag formations.

* * *

The Dragon was lost.

"Lovely…." She was gnawing on her lip so feverishly that it began to bleed. She had no way to tell which way was the right one and, given the anti-spell barrier, there was no way she could chant a location spell to aid her. Crying aloud in exasperation, she turned impulsively to the right and sprinted off down the corridor second from the end. Turning left from there, she was faced again with a choice: the hall branched off five separate ways. Picking one at random again she started off.

A sudden fiery sensation against her hip stopped her dead.

The fierce, angry burst of heat issued forth from Kieci's belt pouch, the one Yuna had given her. Reaching into it, the Dragon drew out a length of chain attached to a heavy pendant; both of which were glowing innately with a pale blue light. The lion-headed pendant flared hotly as Kieci stared at it, trying to place where she had seen it last.

Remembering drove her to throw the thing to the floor; picturing it around Leon's throat had her cringing in rage. Impulsively, her hand brushed the still-healing wound on her chest. She was not too blinded to notice, however, that as the Griever slid down a different hallway its luminescence increased, the blue light throwing shadows on the cracking stone walls. Realizing past her anger that she had found her sign, Kieci leapt into a run and, scooping up the chain, followed the path that she knew now was laid for her.

* * *

Leon pressed forward, though the SeeD was quickly recognizing the futility of his situation. The floor was convulsing so badly the rocks had begun to split, cracking and—to Leon's dismay—falling away. He could feel his feet actually finding weakness and depressions in the floor as he tried to hurry; apparently the dungeon was _not_ the lowest part of the castle, considering that the base beneath he and Trace was rapidly disintegrating…

* * *

Kieci ran on as hard as she could, clutching the stitch in her right side, rounding corners so quickly she hardly missed slamming into them. Stones of varying sizes fell from the ceiling around her, narrowly missing as she charged on. The Griever's light was a full, radiant glow now; it was by the pendant's light that she saw the two of them, a smaller form toting a larger one, stumbling down the hall ahead of her as she rounded a corner. The sight made her heart leap with joy and tighten with anger—but above all else, it drove her to somehow pick up speed…

* * *

Trunks saw Kieci vanish around a turn a good deal ahead of him. He went to call out, but the sight of a sudden crevasse splitting the floor behind her locked his voice in his throat. Startled, he ran forward…

* * *

Leon faltered, feeling the floor beneath his right foot entirely give way. A crack as wide as his thigh opened up, swallowing his leg to the hip and making him swear and lose his grip on Trace, who fell the rest of the way unhindered to the floor. Leon did not lament for him for long, feeling the convulsions of the stone: the floor was not the only place they were falling. He felt it buckle entirely and the crack where he was stuck widened to split the corridor from wall to wall…

* * *

Kieci saw them fall, heard Leon's curse and Trace's weak little mutter of pain. She saw the former seem to sink through the stone, realizing a moment later that the floor was actually caving. Kieci had to get to Trace, _had _to, or this excursion was all for naught. She noticed her danger as she jumped for the two figures before her…

* * *

Trunks saw the three of them plummet into the canyon that had been the floor a moment before. He heard the ceiling give a sickening crunch and, lost for any better plan, slid into the hole after the others as a wave of falling stone came down. The twelfth of the explosions went off and an avalanche, a few dozen tons of stone, followed Trunks into the pit…

* * *

_Cliffhanger! Also irony since it's a hole, not a cliff :P _


	40. Chap 40: Feel the Fire

**Chap. 40**

The four had about twenty feet to fall, landing finally on wet, slimy stone. Leon and Trace hit the ground first, accompanied by the chunks of rock from the floor. The only difference between their landings: Trace, a bit off to the side, landed out of the way of the stones; Leon, not as fortunate, landed partially beneath them. Kieci landed beside the half-buried SeeD and rolled, avoiding more debris. She came to rest on her back, dust and dirt flying in her face, directly below a falling Leon. She had a momentary mental lapse and did a double-take: the Leon pinned beneath two boulders to her left, and the Leon doused in black blood that was falling straight at her. He was not so much her worry—the ceiling collapsing right above him was a different story.

"Move!" He roared. Kieci did as she was told, tucking in her legs and rolling up onto her shoulders. Using the momentum she reversed direction and leapt to her feet as Leon—the fake Leon—landed where her head had been. The very instant the toes of his dark boots met the slick ground, a golden fire lit where they touched and shot upwards, burning away the illusion inch for inch as the aura expanded. Leon's visage shifted into Trunks's own, his hands upraised and his hair fiery blonde. His golden energy field quickly bloomed into a full dome, basking the half-Saiyan, as well as his fellows, in an eerie light. The entire transformation lasted an instant; Trunks locked his knees, bracing against the tons of falling stone that crashed against his barrier another blink later, the sound akin to thunder contained, tumultuous and deafening. Trunks grimaced and pushed harder against a ceiling that wanted badly to continue lowering.

"By the Mother," Kieci muttered, frozen. The slimy rock beneath her feet continued to convulse, though slightly. Twelve explosions and yet the place was still mostly standing. Walls had fallen, foundations shook, but most of the Wake still stood. "Is that…?"

"My energy, yes," Trunks murmured, teeth gritted and eyes closed, "a physical representation. As long as we don't get any more stones-"

No sooner had he said it than the ground gave an earth-shattering convulsion and the thirteenth—the thirteenth and largest—explosion split the remaining structure of the Wake, ripping the old stone walls and battlements apart. The walls cracked, the battlements crumbled, tens more tons of stone came crashing down on top of what had already fallen.

The stone fell, a good deal of it on Trunks's barrier. The half-Saiyan caught the full brunt of the wizard's final present, and the added pressure—the _tripling_ of the weight he was holding up—drove him to his knees. Kieci was forced to duck as the makeshift golden ceiling lowered about two feet—Trunks gasped as he went down, forced from his Super Saiyan status for a split-second. He roared—yelled, growled, snarled, as wickedly as any pressed being will—and forced his arms back up, his hair rising back from indigo sheets to spikes of blonde as he reformed his sagging barrier.

"…sorry about that."

"By the gods and goddesses…" Kieci swore yet another oath, looking up at Trunks from her resumed position on the floor. "You…" she paused between words, the dust thick and making her cough "you…just saved our lives…you're forgiven…Are you alright…for the moment?" Seeing his nod, the Dragon took a glance around her surroundings from Trunks to Leon, still pinned, to a prone form off to her right. Crawling over to him, she rolled Trace to his side and lifted his head in her hands. "Still alive Wolf?" she could feel the light release of breath against her hands, the weak throb of a pulse against the tips of her fingers. The relief was momentarily numbing, but it took little for her anger to burn back through. "…that's good. As for _you_," she added, looking to Leon as her voice got venomous, "I'm not sure whether to thank you or kill you. Perhaps I'll just do both." Kieci made her way carefully past Trunks and over to Leon, pinned to the damp floor by the two boulders he'd fallen with. "So…thank you for rescuing Trace. Now, how would you like to die?" There was no mirth in her voice; Leon chuckled a little, also mirthlessly, his face broken out in a cold sweat. His skin was pale, features drawn tight in pain.

"You're welcome, though I didn't do it for you. I take it you're still angry about Pennyston?" Kieci let out something halfway between a bark and a laugh.

"You _think?_ Yes, I'm rather pissed off about it, as a matter of fact." A light smile crossed the SeeD's face. "Glad you find it humorous, _Leon."_

"I do, a little."

"You could have _killed _me!" That drove him to another chuckle.

"Now you're just being stupid." She opened her mouth; he went on anyway. "I've had a gunblade in my hand and at my side every day since I was eight years old. I know the weapon, and it is an extension of my body and will as much as my arms are. Do you honestly believe—even think for a _second_—that I would miss a killing shot on a stationary target at point blank range?" Kieci closed her mouth, eyes narrowed. "You were exactly right when you said I 'could' have killed you—I chose not to. If I had wanted you dead, Kieci of Ansramiece, you would not be trapped beneath this castle awaiting death—it would have taken you already. The shot was just close enough to make Seifer and the wizard happy—"

"What if I had flinched? Moved? What if—"

"You didn't. It's over and done."

"Yes, but—"

"Don't either of you find this the _least_ bit inappropriate?" Trunks questioned, his voice quiet and forcibly calm. "I'm not going to be able to hold this forever. We have to find a way out and to do that, we have to cooperate." Kieci sighed, dismissing her shock and acknowledging again the fact that he was right.

"Are you hurt?" she asked Leon, trying the rocks pinning his lower half to see if they would move.

"My right leg is broken in two places. Other than that, I'm peachy."

"Mercenaries," Kieci grumbled, but she let it go. "I'm going to try to lift the smaller rock a little, wedge it under another stone. Pull as soon as you feel the pressure give a little, alright?" He nodded, getting handholds on the ground as best he could. The Dragon, removing her sword from her belt sheathe and all, wedged the weapon in between the two stones and positioned it as she would a lever. "Ready?" Again he nodded, the motion of his head terse and tight as he gathered his strength. Trunks, face already drenched in sweat, cracked open an eye to watch. "Okay then, on three. One…two…" Kieci did not reach the last, so violently did she throw her weight against the handle arm of her makeshift lever. Leon, too, did not miss the unspoken last beat, clawing at the ground and trying to shut out the pain tearing at his leg. At first there was no noticeable give in the rock's pressure. Finally, as the Dragon got so gripped by adrenaline that she actually managed to climb _onto_ her sword, booted feet stepping on the hilt and just below on the sheathed blade and hands steadied on the rock wall. The rock inched upward and Leon pulled, freeing himself only a little. The Dragon's blade strained.

"Again, pull with all you have this time!" Kieci shouted, preoccupied enough that she did not notice that her voice rang loudly in their stony prison. Leon nodded again, and Trunks crossed his fingers (or thought about doing so, realized what would happen if his concentration slipped, and decided to simply pray instead) as the Dragon bent her knees to spring. "And…now!" Kieci hopped as high as she could, bent over double to compensate for the narrow distance between her head and Trunks's ceiling. As her weight vanished momentarily the rock sagged again; Leon, his leg still pinned from the lower thigh down, gasped in pain as the stone lowered and smashed his kneecap into the floor. A jagged edge on the rock's underside pinched his calf and ankle just as cruelly.

Just as suddenly the stone surged upward, offset by the lever and the Dragon's returned weight and inertia as she landed. Knowing in that split-instant that this was his last chance, Leon mimicked Trunk's earlier growl of concentration and pulled with all he had, bending at the elbows, waist and knee.

Behind a wall of blinding anguish that shot up his spine from his lower body, the SeeD felt his leg slide free just as Kieci, still on her way down as her sword buckled, felt her blade snap. The Dragon fell clumsily to the damp floor at the same time the stone did.

"Graceful," Trunks remarked, a small smile on his face.

* * *

Miles away, Scout leapt up from her seat on the porch, upsetting her chair as she did so. Celena, sitting sullenly nearby under a tree, raised an eyebrow in unhappy surprise.

"They've done it! _She's _done it! The Wake is fallen!" It was the first smile to grace Scout's lips in what felt like a lifetime of heavy sorrow. Celena's grumpy "Well huzzah for them" went unnoticed by other woman, though perhaps the grass Celena was pulling up blade by blade took note.

It did not take Scout long to realize something was wrong, though. As she again traversed the Wake's remains with her mind, she was disturbed to find that the wizard's magical signature—though he was long gone from the scene—was the most prominent aura about the place. She could not _see_ the Wake, but she could certainly feel that what had been a fortress was now a pile of rubble. That part was fine.

What bothered Scout more was that the energy signals she had expected to find—the boy's, perhaps, and the Dragon's, certainly—were weak and hard to make out. The shroud of the wizard's magic was clouding her mind and sending off alarm bells within it as well. Searching through the hole she'd made in Kieci's barrier (so she could hear out), she reached for the only source that she knew was close enough to be of any help.

'_ALEX!_' She roared mentally.

The Technician Commander, hit with the mental equivalent of a battering ram, literally _flew_ from the saddle of his horse and landed to the side of the road as his men, agape, stared at him. Scout did not even pause long enough to see that he was all right; instead, she toned down the force of her speech and reached for Robert's mind instead, yelling his name in her thoughts.

The Intelligence Lieutenant winced at the force of her call but he was at least not blasted from his saddle.

'_Yes?'_ he managed in reply, watching with a tinge of amusement as Alex's mount stared at the dragon-speaker, puzzled as to why he had chosen such a poor time to dismount.

_'How far are you from the Wake?'_ It was an odd question, one he took a moment to ponder. Her next words were horribly sharp. '_Stop stalling, damn you—how far?'_

'_Umm…probably six hours hard riding, give or take. We just refreshed our mounts and left our still-recovering at the Norston outpost. But why? What's the matter?'_

_'There's no time for you to sit while I explain—get Alex up and start riding, I'll tell you on the way. And ride _hard…_we may be too late as it is._

Nearby, Celena sat smiling.

* * *

...

...

...The more I write her character the more I think Celena might be the most spiteful White Mage ever.

_-K-_


	41. Chap 41: Fire Isn't Going to Cut It

**Chap. 41**

It had been silent for several minutes. Then…

"Take your shirt off. We have to set the bones in your leg." Leon did not question the correlation between the Dragon's two comments; nor did he seem surprised as Kieci removed her own belt and tunic, leaving herself clothed only in her undershirt and breeches.

"Have you ever set a broken limb before?" the SeeD wanted to know, complying.

"Yes," Kieci responded emotionlessly, tearing her tunic into strips. "I had a cat that broke its leg once." Trunks's eyes opened a bit at that, just in time to catch Leon's eye twitch. The Dragon huffed a little at both of them, rolling her eyes. "I was kidding. I'm only useless as a _healer, _not as a field medic."

"…Oh," he responded, truthfully a little relieved. The half-Saiyan closed his eyes again, the ghost of a smile on his face.

A moment later and Kieci was positioned before Leon in a lunge, doubled over and set like a runner coming sideways off the blocks. Holding his broken leg firmly, she looked to his face and waited for his go-ahead. He leaned back, tightening every muscle in his body, locking his jaw and clamping his teeth together. Bracing, he nodded.

Kieci leaned closer to the SeeD, then reversed direction and threw all of her body weight into one forceful tug, wincing as the muffled, pain-wracked cry escaped from behind her. A loud _POP!_ echoed in their narrow confines, the sound overlaid by sharp, rasping breaths. Easing his leg back and releasing it gently, the Dragon turned.

Leon's face was a study in pain, though it was obvious he was trying quite hard to be silent, his head and shoulders pressed hard against the large rock behind him. His brown locks ran with sweat, lining his ash-white face and bringing out the dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you ok, all things considered?" Kieci asked him, holding the longer half of her broken blade. He was gritting his teeth, the exhaled breaths hissing past them with a sound like an untended kettle. He looked as though he would try to answer her, though, and she caught—through the obvious discomfort in his eyes—the little glimmer of mischief he always seemed to have, buried at his core. Someone somewhere had worked hard to unbury those rare glimmers of humor, she had a feeling. "And if you say 'peachy,' I will cut you," the Dragon promised, meaning every word. That startled a huff of amused surprise from him, though a second later the SeeD breathed "No blade."

Kieci looked down at the piece of sword she was holding, and harrumphed. "I'll bite you then, is that better?" she muttered. "Answer the question!" He nodded once, jerkily. "Good then." Kieci busied herself with using the longer end of her busted blade as a makeshift splint, leaving it in the tattered sheathe that too had broken. "This will have to do for you until we can get you to a real healer. I'm going to need all I've got to get us out of…" she trailed off, letting her hands drop and take in the situation as they did.

"So….I think I may have the beginnings of a plan," Kieci said finally, after a long period of silence.

"But?" Leon prompted. He was leaning against the stone that had broken his leg, sweating. The small area Trunks had managed to keep open for them was intensely hot.

"…I may need to talk at you for a bit, work through the thought process. I'm going to assume the same natural laws apply here as they did in my own world." Leon simply looked at her; the Dragon took his attention as an acceptance to listen to her proposal. Trunks's eyes were still closed, though Kieci caught his miniscule nod of awareness. They were, after all, something of a captive audience. "All right then. For starters, we take it as given that chanted magic is out: the Wake is warded against it, down to its very core. That eliminates the lesser forms of magics, any channeling that would involve things like fire. I'm also beginning to think that using my spelled gems caused the collapse somehow, so they're out—though I don't have enough firepower to blast through all of this rock regardless. I also cannot try to channel Chaos and use my symbol to try to free us, as doing so would necessarily cause me to draw energy from Trace—a strain he can little afford right now." She spoke like a scientist, voice matter-of-fact, articulating with her hands and staring off into the distance as though overlooking the setup to some grand experiment. "That eliminates Chaos from the mix as well, which leaves me with nothing but the other two great magics to choose from."

"Great magics?" Leon questioned. Kieci did not take it as interruption; she plowed on as though she had opted into the explanation by her own choosing, not pulling her gaze from the hazy somewhere she watched.

"The three great magics: Light, Darkness, and Chaos. The Light and the Dark make up everything and nothing, the universe born from the abyss. Chaos is born from the interplay of the other two, though for purposes of magical manipulation, it is an element all its own. Few things, with the exception of a few elementals, are all Light or all Dark—both make up the nature of all things, in different amounts. Our souls are all cast in different shades of gray, I suppose, inclined towards one or the other." She paused for a moment, thinking, then continued. "Those whose natures are more inclined towards Light tend to be better with the white magics—healing, defense, and the like. Those who are skewed more towards Darkness and the black magics are better with offensive spells, though being apt with black magic does not make one evil, per say. Just….more inclined towards it, depending on the soul in question."

"And Chaos?" Leon prompted. "If being a little more Light- or Dark-hearted makes you better at channeling those energies, how do you channel Chaos?"

"You don't, not without a focus. Trace's…species, the Chaos Elementals, are a perfect fifty-fifty split, if you think of it like a ratio of Light and Darkness within the being. Channeling the pure great magics isn't like tapping them to cast a fire spell or heal a minor wound— the greats consume you, will take you over and destroy you, if you aren't made of the right stuff. People like Trace can channel Chaos—against their wills, oftentimes—and it doesn't destroy them because they are born destined to handle it. Even they can't control themselves when consumed, but they live to talk about it. Channeling a great magic is…unwise if you are not gods-equipped for the job."

"How is it that you get away with it then? Unless you are like Trace?" Kieci grinned ruefully.

"I am….an exception to the rule. We don't know why it works for me, it simply does. I _do_ know that having him around makes it easier, but I can do it whenever there is ample conflict for me to draw upon."

"So Chaos is out. How do Light and Darkness help us from this mess, if they're too dangerous to channel for a regular person?"

"Well….that's the hitch, isn't it? I am, suffice it to say, more skilled with black magics than with white. We are buried beneath foundations wrought in evil and steeped in Darkness for hundreds of years."

"So?" That was Trunks, voice strained and quiet.

"So I think that I can use the aura of this place like the wizard used Trace—as a focus. I am not equipped to call on pure Darkness, but maybe with all of it festering around us, I could draw in enough to channel it without getting us all killed. It _is _already here, after all."

"That last part is the…practical application part of the theory?" Leon questioned. His tone was difficult to read. "You _think _that you can draw in and harness Darkness to free us."

"Based on the truths I know about the great magics, yes, I think so. The only issue will be containing the Darkness. It could be dangerous—lethal, maybe—to the rest of you."

"I thought channeling Darkness wasn't necessarily bad?" Trunks questioned.

"On its own and in small amounts, no. But concentrated Darkness, with little to filter it…I'm inclined towards Darkness; I know that, so with restraint and care, in this circumstance, I should be able to get away with harnessing it. You two, however…if I am any judge of auras, and I am, you two are skewed towards Light-the hero types always are. My drawing the Darkness, giving it a vessel, puts you in danger. If I were to lose control…well, Light and Darkness are forever in conflict; the balance part is only true on the grand scale of things. If I were to be consumed with a force opposed to your natures…" she shrugged, dismissing a deeply unsettling thought. "Not an ideal situation."

"I guess that means you better not lose control," Leon said simply, and the mage chuckled darkly.

"Just like that, huh?"

"…just like that—there isn't really anything else, is there?" She thought about that a moment.

"That would suggest that you have a rather large amount of faith in me, gods only know why." He shrugged.

"Even when you screw up you still usually pull it all together at the end, you'll just have to do that again. What do you need from me? I don't think Trunks is good for much beyond what he's already doing." The Saiyan nodded a little in agreement. His face was drawn and ghostly in the flickering golden light his aura gave off and already the golden dome was far less brilliant than it had been.

"Do you have any idea which direction we were facing before the floor collapsed?" Kieci asked. Leon looked at her oddly.

"Why does that matter?"

"Because if we're facing east or west, we're facing away from the direction of the dungeon's main corridors. If I'm going to blast us out, I have to know which way to aim. There will be less stone to plow through if I follow the natural course of the hallway."

"We're not in the dungeon," Trunks muttered. It took him a long time to continue, "at least, I don't think we are. The main dungeon rows were packed with cells, but there were no doors that I could see when I fell."

"So if not the dungeon…" Kieci mused, thinking. "Something sub to the main castle? Like storage, or cellars, or—"

"No doors," Trunks interrupted. "Maybe a drainage pipe?"

"Central tunnel with no doors, running opposite the main corridors to drain from the cells running the other directions, much narrower than the other halls….it certainly fits. Given that, then, the shortest way out…"

"-would be that way," Leon gestured, pointing to her left. "The ditch would be east of us, same as my room here faced. The cleft in the hill on that side is probably where the pipe empties out."

"Brilliant. We may just stand half of a chance here," Kieci gnawed on a thumbnail, thinking. "Leon, I'm going to have to put you in charge of making sure I get _all_ of us out here. I may lose sight of that goal when I'm channeling the Darkness."

"What should I be expecting?"

"Knowing me? I'll probably go crazy. Things are very likely to explode." Trunks huffed; Kieci went on, "We're going to have to make sure that the barrier holds until I can blast the way clear for us. Can you hold, Trunks?" He nodded, adding:

"Not for much longer, though. I don't have the reserves that I'm used to."

"—and there's another problem," Leon agreed, "We are not the most mobile group. Let's assume you blast the pipe clear: how are we supposed to get out of here before the ceiling collapses again? Trunks will have to hold the barrier until the last second, but even then the way you blew clear is just going to fill back up again before I have time to hobble a step or two." Kieci sighed, gnawing her nail more vigorously.

She stayed silent for several more minutes, musing. Then, apparently after a stroke of creativity hit her, she drew a length of rope from her pack.

"You have a solution?" Leon questioned.

"Well, I have our plan of action—we won't know until it's over whether it 'solved' anything. I'll spare you most of the details this time—suffice it to say this is going to be risky."

"And the rope is for…?"

"—I'll get to that. I need both of you to do something entirely more important first. Trunks." She turned to him, and the half-Saiyan opened his eyes. He looked the worse for wear, his skin pallid in the white-gold light. "I'll need you to show Leon how to control the barrier, as well as extend it as soon as I blow the way clear so we have enough time to get out. You'll be able to spare the concentration in a few minutes, trust me. As soon as the path is open, Leon, you'll hold it that way—and as we progress forward, you drop the barrier behind us so we don't burn through all of our energy at once. Trunks, how much life energy are you using to keep this up? This can't all be your—what'd you call it?—ki." He smiled a little.

"A bit. I won't have enough of either for all that, not by a long shot."

"I know—that's why we're going to give you some of ours. We'll have to link energies, life force and all."

"How…?" Leon began.

"I'll handle the hard part—forming the connection. I've only done it once before and it didn't work out the best, but we haven't got any other choice. Once we can share energy between us, I'll start channeling the Darkness. As soon as I do, Leon," she caught his eye and held it, "it's _your_ job to keep me away from the three of you. That includes the energy I'm going to channel. You can keep the connection open, but you _have_ to keep the Darkness out of it. It's…ugh, _how _do I put this…the Darkness will be physical once I start to channel it. The aura between us will be metaphysical but we will still be connected through it. You're going to have to _physically_ keep the Darkness away as well as keep it out of your heads…without breaking the aural link."

"How do I do that?"

"How stubborn are you?" The SeeD raised an eyebrow at her; Kieci grinned in spite of herself. "You'll know what to do and when, trust me. It'll be a lot of manipulation with that lump of grey matter between your ears; thinking is doing, in this case. Just be resolute when you do it—Darkness is pushy. Once the way is clear, you'll have to take over manipulating the barrier because Trunks is going to have to do the walking to get you all out. As for the rope…" she looked at Trace. "He is not likely to get up any time soon. So…I was thinking, I can rig up something of a shoulder harness, and you can carry him that way. You're going to have to help each other to make it out anyways…" She trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "We're all going to be very close for the next short while, unfortunately." Neither of the males said anything. Kieci got to work with her harness, wrapping it as lightly as she could around Trace's chest, beneath his arms. Securing that, she made two loops on the ends of the rope and, straining with the effort, pulled her unconscious comrade over to where Trunks was braced against his barrier. She went then to Leon and, offering him her hands, helped pull him carefully to his feet. Bracing him on one side, Kieci helped him limp over beside Trunks. "Can you help me lift Trace?" Leon, standing still, helped the Dragon pull the elemental half upright and, sliding one of the loops over his shoulder and one over the Saiyan's, shared the burden of the dead weight with Trunks.

"You're still alright?" he asked; Trunks nodded. Kieci, standing in front of the two, swallowed hard, rubbing her hands together nervously.

"This is going to be awkward," she murmured. Placing a hand on each of their shoulders, she closed her eyes and added, "…here goes everything."

* * *

_I could have titled it "Things just got real" but that's even MORE cliche' than what I actually called it :P_


End file.
